today i feel a bit like Simone de Beauvoir and letters and the color grey... maybe she was writing poetry inside all those letters. here is a poem i've written from her letter:




_______________________________________14 March [1941]
____________________________________________Paris

my love,

still living in expectation,
_____ I haven’t seen
your Paris_____Paris hasn’t forgotten
you
there are paragraphs about you here
sayings- “informed that M. Sartre is
__________________ working on a novel”

The Age of Reason
_____hope you reach it


nothing new
_____happens to me
________spring’s changed lovely___a
__________splendid moonlight
longing to relive such nights with you

working_____polishing_____alone in my text
________to feel sick___pretty
_____long run ____I saw shameless
spoken


I have a screaming_______quarrel
_____ collapsed ___from fury
idyllic

I am living gently
_____in the midst of
______this whole
________ little world
______________________ waiting for you


- Your charming



*Words taken from Letters to Sartre by Simone de Beauvoir