” you will talk and I will listen, delightedly, you will look at me and I will be intoxicated—-but no, I do not want to paint any further. I am no Raphael…At home, my darling, we will always love, in words, looks, kisses, confessions and harmony of souls. Then you will understand the meaning of the word “Yours”

It is this ‘yours’ at the end that is catches me. Makes me think of how often terms of endearment or love are the relinquishment of self in some way.