You’ve returned, I’m glad, I had been depressed but now I’m not. I have not had company like this since music. I could shout obscenities and probably will. I do not care that the last pine cone that I had saved to keep autumn alive had been pilfered from my room, it will return to the earth I do not care that my coat looks tatty, it feels warm. I no longer need to be delivered by the harlots of lost causes and because I am free they have won and so I. There is a fallen birch that has miraculously spanned a ravine. I could walk across it. I could dance across it with you your feet tip-tapping away. I do not worry that you will fall. I worry only to be without your distraction.