Unpublished poetry extract:

Roma 1^mo gennaio A.D. MM

(O-one — O-one)

When you write to yourself

To whom do you write?

Is it the narrowness

Of vision guarded

That makes you hesitate

To begin anew?

Two faced solitude each

Time echoes your thoughts

A Janus conversing

Labours in your mind

From past and future he

Gleans for your meaning.

When self addresses self

Can one become naught?

Is it to face the source

Beyond you and me

That distresses and pains

This ornament spoiled?

Such gazing as never

Can meet eye to eye

Bids you strive and unite

Toward a single

New image of your soul

This mind within mind.

When you write, for yourself

Fathom you your fate?

Is it as a passage

That words must pass through

That makes you at once both

Admit and hinder?

A searching inward and

A searching outward

That never can be rent

A Janus poised on

The threshold of your self

Smiles a cunning smile

When you write to yourself

To whom do you write?

Is it the narrowness