to the end...

The song comes back to me, words of transformation fit the beautiful cold music that runs through my ears.



Moments that could never be scripted seem to be happening closer and closer together...



...I smile at the comment and at it all...



His book smells of his studio. I inhale it just a little, just to make sure the smell never runs out. This is not about sex.

I'm sorry for all the problems I have caused with you...

In his moment of pain he set me free. Can you believe that I felt caged. His questioning cut my wings. I woke up this morning fresh. Smiling. The small black fly that has taken up residence in my room sits on my white flower plastic lamp. I watch it for a while and decide if he is there tomorrow morning I'll name him. Everything is fine and gone. My concentration is back. I am back and he is definately gone.

I've got a wealth of new ideas

Sunday.

My shock of you never having had peanut butter over shadows how aware I am of you watching me move around my kitchen, chopping the walnuts and pears and sprinkling the blueberries evenly into two bowls. This is our first breakfast. I should realise that here is a step forward. We sit having breakfast you smell fresh from the shower. Later I note how neatly you've folded my towel and picked up some of my clothes off my floor, except the bra, I smile. I image we smell the same, you thank me for the most healthy breakfast you've ever had. I wonder if I wasn't so good for him would he stay a bit longer.