It was there in the morning when I got up early and felt the absence_ clearly the room was empty of you, but that was no absence, it was mere time off; Our time together has always been completely relevant , I don't need to have you in to know you are here ,no_
And what of the jaggedly-cutting poverty feeling down to each bone of the soul, the seed of can we endure another ten? can I preserve that laccolith of faith in us? are we for some noiresque quietus, for some afterimage, what?
Sometimes you do things, things only I could guess the meaning of _ your own motu proprio _ better to stay in today_ better to keep listening to that absence of yours breathing warmly on the floor, because this little arrangement is ours_ and ours only_