Let me remember how it used to be, and bring one morning back again.
There was no past, no future; merely the moment in its ring of light, and our bodies; and the inevitable climax, the ecstasy.
If I die first, and I almost certainly will, you will be my sole heir. There’s not much in the kitty, except a set of ivory-backed hairbrushes and my library of romantic poetry, but when the time comes, these will be yours. Along with whatever we haven’t already spent on whores and whiskey.
I no longer need them. I am indifferent to them. There’s something hard in me, crystalline, a kernel of glass.
Knowing too much about other people puts you in their power, they have a claim on you, you are forced to understand their reasons for doing things and then you are weakened.
I’ve forgotten things, I’ve forgotten that I’ve forgotten them.