“As I pass out into the blackness,
I wonder if I have ever really known you—
Or if you exist at all,
And are not but a twisted, fevered, silver creation of my brain.
And the unreality of you comes over me,
Like a mist upon a lonely sea.”
I wonder if I have ever really known you—
Or if you exist at all,
And are not but a twisted, fevered, silver creation of my brain.
And the unreality of you comes over me,
Like a mist upon a lonely sea.”
(Mercedes de Acosta, poetessa e scrittrice; New York, 1º marzo 1893 – New York, 9 maggio 1968)
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