and I’ll tell you all the things I have in my head, millions, myriads – they won’t stir by day, only by dark on the river. Think of that. Throw over your man, I say, and come.

virginia woolf

we say nothing
walk like enemies
into the single bed of a rough brick wall.

joelle taylor

I shan’t love you; I know you too well.
Do you want me, anyhow?
Yes.
I ask no more.

jean-paul sartre