Do any of
You know what
It’s like to
Let life go
It’s a dark silence
Absence of laughter
Absence of glee
Absence of anything
Remotely curiously normal
Yet there in
That incubus that
Hothouse of thought
Spawned ideas of
Baldwin and Stoppard
That may be
Love was simpler
Than we thought
That maybe just
Maybe love was
Just simply love