Hadn't I, always, but ever and ever, thought that life was just one great risk for the living? - Maya Angelou

Cotton rows crisscross the world
And dead-tired nights of yearning
Thunderbolts on leather strops
And all my body burning
Sugar cane reach up to God
And every baby crying
Shame a blanket of my night
And all my days are dying

Love costs all we are and will ever be. Yet it is only love which sets us free. A Brave and Startling Truth.

A bizarre sensation pervades a relationship of pretense. No truth seems true. A simple morning's greeting and response appear loaded with innuendo and fraught with implications. ... Each nicety becomes more sterile and each withdrawal more permanent.