Before I Could Read, Almost A Baby,

Your Red Dress,’ She Said, And Laughed. But I Looked At The Dress On The Floor And It Was As If The Fire Had Spread Across The Room. It Was Beautiful And It Reminded Me Of Something I Must Do. I Will Remember I Thought. I Will Remember Quite Soon Now.

The Feeling Of Sunday Is The Same Everywhere, Heavy, Melancholy, Standing Still.

All Of A Writer That Matters Is In The Book Or Books. It Is Idiotic To Be Curious About The Person.

A Room? A Nice Room? A Beautiful Room? A Beautiful Room With Bath? Swing High, Swing Low, Swing To And Fro...this Happened And That Happened... And Then The Days Came And I Was Alone.

And Then The Days Came When I Was Alone.