Bring no flowers.
I see half past four and dead light. From my window, cold cheeks numb.
Home: pyjamas, hot water bottle and considering cold teacup I could stay.
Ach, no. I should go.
Brown silk nylons & leatherette shoes & is always this cold this time of year?
The bus is too eager *travelcard soon expires* whisking me forward toward people
waiting, warm in another place.
Near last to arrive, unfashionably late so I am so sorry, sorry so.
There are candles and we pick slowly at vegetarian bolognaise.
The monotonies of explaining why you’re vegetarian: discuss.
Light scented room but topic heavy.
I have some conversational ideas, but tonight my tongue is a soldier wounded without ammunition.
Bury weary thoughts, listen.
Silence. Feel a brain ease.
The Physicist said to the Philosopher, how much does Philosophy change in six months?
That’s exactly what a Physicist would ask.
We go around the table talking about how we make money.