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