There was a gay fiction among us that we were constantly enjoying ourselves and a skeleton of truth that we never did.

“I thought it very touching to see these two women, coarse and shabby and beaten…”

“The broken heart. You think you will die, but you just keep living, day after d…”

“And let us not remember Italy the less regardfully, because, in every fragment …”

“For certain, neither of them sees a happy Present, as the gate opens and closes…”