...writing day, today
even if on the move..to hiding place
i was planning to go see her... once more today.
My greatest, unimagined, truly beautiful moment of life with an English born...
one not so fair midwinter lunchtime
( she smiles at the incessant rain, too)
in a whisper
" you..... no one else... you are the only one...
when i popped the q
to you
and you said,
so quietly
' Steinbeck'...
but thats us
the only two left who value human writing
you dont know something, though.... you dont
i know something about you
you dont
you are the only librarian left in the whole pesrilent
Steinbeckian dustbowl
of a cuntry
who respects the humans
whom
come to your place of books, and quiet study
and your gob
only speaks softly
and funnily and sardonically,
but quietly
i cannot shock you
we know
tho i caught you out on fifty shades hahh hahh...
when ALL the rest...have lost it.. you follow the forever human rules of speaking quietly in your library..
ultimate litmus of a land gone sick selfagrandising fathead
mad...
you i said, no not your colleagues...only
you."
( the only beautiful timeless question, of the married woman, even if first chat ustwo..she complained of him never reading any books: did she " lose" my phone number?... because i know... she knows, in her prim n proper, dour, so so plaid skirt, undersrated... wooly tights... restrained ... little sexless librarian attire.... shes by far the sexiest woman ...english born, in the whole pestilant SW..boot...as she knows... i know ... but i never imagined even remotely possible a daughter mid 30s... that eas a shock.... )
