Bright sunlit morning feels like early spring late winter. Richard is on my mind. I close my eyes and see his face, hear his voice. I roll over in bed at night to touch. His body is so warm, always– and soft. How I love to hold him. I wake up every morning in a panic. I want to go home. Nine of the problems are insurmountable. I just want to go home. It’s my own immaturity that won’t allow me to be happy. Richard
January 14th, 1975
January 14th, 1975
January 14th, 1975
Bright sunlit morning feels like early spring late winter. Richard is on my mind. I close my eyes and see his face, hear his voice. I roll over in bed at night to touch. His body is so warm, always– and soft. How I love to hold him. I wake up every morning in a panic. I want to go home. Nine of the problems are insurmountable. I just want to go home. It’s my own immaturity that won’t allow me to be happy. Richard