L is away and I dream she falls with a crash through the rotten floorboards of an old house. I call down the hole. And call and call.
Then I dream of my first woman love, kissing the soft skin of her neck. She has come back for me.
Tomorrow the hospital and I have decided writing will be the way to deal with it, writing in my blue notebook on the train home. A place to put the pieces. Then here.
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