Mr Palomar Italo Calvino
Sleeping in the eaves with an early rise. Working through Kate’s bookshelf. A few good numbers of a sheepskull [?]. Nothing but dreams tonight of you & foreign countries. Crossing the borderline. Yours with a pulsing heart & taunting loins [?]. Goodnight sweet girl. JDx
Hello ROSE! when Glasgow is far and train journeys long, think of all the fun we will have when you come to Sweden. Lips & lips to you. Love S.
Empty swimming pools freak me out. So hard to get into. Dewey eyed goodbye to West Country. Back around 3. Listening to Phantom music in rain & thinking about Aragon & my growing love for it. JDx
Wet green land. Nothing exotic to see. My eyes droop & then I read about africa & then I feel guilty. Nothing to stimulate. No agitation except bundu boys & [?] clinging to a warm body that left me cold when I left it. Coming back to it now I am refuelled & need to rest & recreate fiction
Kat & Keith about to arrive from London. Putting them up for the night. Rain pouring down. Editing & already complaints from upstairs. Good [?] [?]. Missing your kisses & awaiting ramification comrade Brighton Love JD.
Dear Rosie – Brisk late night walk up Byres Rd after editing and another sure fire smell in the air. Hungry as a stray dog for your return. Kisses on you while you sleep. My sweet alley cat. Sshhh xxxx