Christ, her eyes are fire to me. When my lips meet hers, so carefully, so critically, it is the kiss of life, it is the kiss of death - it takes two, to kiss. In her presence and her light I sometimes think … perhaps, perhaps there is no need, perhaps there is no need to feel so ashamed. Will I stay there, in her light? I can’t believe it somehow. I mean, can you? But I’m trying, God damn it, I’m trying.