4/2/44

I am lonely in the evenings, when the dusk invades my room, so politely, so subtly inviting me to do the things one cannot do alone. Sometimes the desire is in my arms only, and they are hungry like the stomach is hungry, for the solid embrace. Sometimes the desire is in my lips only and I bite it out of them. Sometimes the desire is a ghostly counter part of me, and stands beside me sadly. In the nights I lie and watch the moon on [its] hopeless quest, and learn anew the inexorable equation, my loneliness of one is the loneliness of one plus one and one times one and two.