I need you, she said
So You held her close
I love you, she said
So you loved her back
I'll always be yours, she said
And you knew she was right
Marry me, she said
And you agreed
I'm leaving, she said
And she was gone

Awake with cold sweat
Glistening on his face
Wishing he could erase
Everything she was

Once dreamt of mountains
Calm, cool streams
Gone are those dreams,
Instead replaced
With the warm, glowing image of her face

He can remember so clearly
The last thing she said
Sprawled and still on the bed
There was so much,
Too much that he wanted to say

'Then speak, ' she said,
'For sticks and stones
May break bones,
But words will last forever'

With one hand he touched her
And he spoke
Through the smoke
Of her last cigarette
But all the language in the world
Did not (could not)  properly articulate
The way she moved him

Always he remembered those words she said
Haunting words rising from beautiful lips
Of a woman whose last kiss
Lingered like the morning fog
Still tortured by the knowledge
That his words of love, of passion
Would never be heard
And never have the chance to last forever

You are
delicious
And I am
greedy.
You are
generous
And I am
needy.
You are
experienced
And I am
learning.
You are
flammable
And I am
burning.

(Washington, August, 1918)I HAVE seen this city in the day and the sun.
I have seen this city in the night and the moon.
And in the night and the moon I have seen a thing this city gave me nothing of in the day and the sun.
  
The float of the dome in the day and the sun is one thing.
The float of the dome in the night and the moon is another thing.
In the night and the moon the float of the dome is a dream-whisper, a croon of a hope: "Not today, child, not today, lover; maybe tomorrow, child, maybe tomorrow, lover."
  
Can a dome of iron dream deeper than living men?
Can the float of a shape hovering among tree-tops-can this speak an oratory sad, singing and red beyond the speech of the living men?
  
A mother of men, a sister, a lover, a woman past the dreams of the living-
Does she go sad, singing and red out of the float of this dome?
  
There is ... something ... here ... men die for.