separated by false perceptions and pride,
we bathe in a shower of words, alone . . .
making little attempt to hide the hurt that
penetrates our nakedness; we are
deliberate with our mistaken identities,
habitually concealing the truth behind our
shields of innocence while we accuse
each other of a loss of understanding andcommitment . . . is there any love left
between us that we have not yet destroyed?
May 9, 1985
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