dawn

A day of communication, of lunch, of longing, of love and lust. A day to shatter the stagnant misery that had flooded recent times and then remained, still and untreated, immovable. A yawning dawn has broken through, red and full of promise. A dawn that you bring to the earth. And so, sober for a change, I lie in bed and read Kerouac whilst the British Blues, Artemis and Demeter, help to keep the blues at bay. Unsure if it is hot or cold I leave the all night heating set to come on downstairs whilst upstairs I lie next to an open window. Tired and worn from the pressures of last week I seem unable to decide things. Never the less, I feel somewhat hopeful that a decent sleep will be mine tonight... a deep sleep containing a dream in which you smile at me and assure me that you are mine.

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