Old devil moon

I can’t believe I still have it in me.  Old devil moon.  A little sigh of romance at the dawn of summer.  The moon is almost full.  After my exertion of passion I had this desire for some champagne and big, cabbage-head roses.  Somewhere in my life I’d like to have another chance for roses, champagne and romance.  In this mess of existence which has every reason for driving me to the gas oven—I still hope to be spared, to have another chance.

—journal entry, 17 June 1989

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