I felt a kind of joylessness between you. Of course he and I have had our difficulties. Rainer, of course, knows more than Otto knows, he believes in women. But he feeds on us, like all of them. HIs whole life, his art is protected by women.
Marriage is lonelier than solitude.
I couldn't paint or speak or even move. But what was funny in the dream was, Rainer had written my requiem- a long, beautiful poem, and calling me his friend. I was your friend but in the dream you didn't say a word. In the dream his poem was like a letter to someone who has no right to be there but must be treated gently, like a guest who comes on the wrong day. That photo of the two of us-I have it still, you and I looking hard into each other and my painting behind us.