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love poems

Jan 24, 2015

I wake up to the message ring of my phone and out of a dislocating dream. The lights are on in the house, I’m sure I turned them off.

Erin is outside, she has come to say goodbye.

She was one of Luca's best friends and stayed with her often. Luca loves quite a few folks - the women she liked the most were soft, warm people who operated on a similar, slightly frenetic/nervous energy wavelength. Some male friends I think she actually had crushes on.

We get coffee and go to the Merri community garden where Bernie is doing strange Bernie things. Her off-sider, Miss Print, types bad love poems… Erin insists we get one for Luca.

It is quite excellent.

I wait for my ‘divination’ from Bernie. She contemplates the dictionary for a while then pulls out a word She asks me whether I want to ask a question about the near future or far. I don’t want a near future picture. I know what it holds and I don’t want a picture of it.

Bernie takes a photo of me with the picture of me she has just painted. As we walk away I realise she had been meaning to take one of me and Luca, and I wish I had turned back.

We get home and I watch Erin struggling to say goodbye and have nothing left to give.


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