gri_2003_m_46_b02_f06_016

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65495272 - not-logged-in-535f37d57bb5467f0ea2
65505350 - not-logged-in-b2f332268215a03322ce
65615416 - vanderfb
65635235 - Emmaxangel1
65650480 - rb38mk
WINNER - 65692684 - dguent

65495272 - not-logged-in-535f37d57bb5467f0ea2

II
How is Giovanni Bellini progressing? I must say again how good I think it is.

Yesterday I rang Beckett and must write to his publishers and send him a list of what I want. I rang Antal but no answer. Time and Tide I am writing to again today and Stephen Potter.

The weather is rather oppressive. The sun has come out now, it is about eleven and it very bright, so perhaps I can sunbath and write this afternoon.

This paper is part of the vast gift made to me by Paul. I fell a madly professional writer now. (Yawolla is very pleased.)

Last night I wrote this poem. I imagined us both a hot and sleepless at our respective windows:

HOT NIGHT
The kind of day is over
When in a globe of wool
Flesh sacrificed its sweat:
So with the thinnest cover
Get ready for your sleep, pull
The cover to your hips, or get
Hot and nervous to the window.

The day was damp and heavy
That only now repairs
The fever and the cloud's weight:
Like someone rising from the sea,
A beauty mounting stairs,
A wind lifts a corner of the night
To splash us in our windows.

I must go and shop and then get on with my work.

Darling Sylvia, I adore and love you,
Lawrence

65505350 - not-logged-in-b2f332268215a03322ce

II
How is Giovanni Bellini progressing? I must say again how good I think it is.
Yesterday I rang Beckett and must write to his publishers and send him a list of whatI want. I rang Antal but no answer. Time and Tide I am writing to again today and Stephen Potter.
The weather is rather oppressive. The sun has come out now, it is about eleven and it very bright, so perhaps I can sunbathe and write this afternoon.
This paper is part of the vast gift made to me by Paul. I feel a madly professional writer now. (Yawolla i very pleased.)
Last night I wrote this poem. I imagined us both a hot and sleepless at irrespective windows:

HOT NIGHT
The kind of day is over
When a globe of wool
Flesh sacrificed its sweat:
So with the thinnest cover
Get ready for your sleep, pull
The cover to your hips, or get
Hot and nervous to the window.

The day was damp and heavy
That only now repairs
The fever and the cloud's weight:
Like someone rising from the sea,
A beauty mounting stairs,
A wind lifts a corner of the night
To splash us in our windows.

I must go and shop and then get on with my work.

Darling Sylvia, I adore you and love you,
Lawrence

65615416 - vanderfb

II

How is Giovanni Bellini progressing? I must say again how good I think it is.

Yesterday I rang Beckett and must write to his publishers and send him a list of what I want. I rang Antal but no answer. Time and Time I am writing to again today and Stephen Potter.

The weather is rather oppressive. The sun has come out now, it is about eleven and it very bright, so perhaps I can sunbathe and write this afternoon.

This paper is part of the vast gift made to me by Paul. I feel a madly professional writer now. (Yawolla is very pleased.)

Last night I wrote a poem. I imagined us both a hot and sleepless at our respective windows:

HOT NIGHT

The kind of day is over
When in a globe of wool
Flesh sacrificed its sweat:
So with the thinnest cover
Get ready for your sleep, pull
The cover to your hips, or get
Hot and nervous to the window.

The day was damp and heavy
That only now repairs
The fever and the cloud's weight:
Like someone rising from the sea,
A beauty mounting stairs,
A wind lifts a corner of the night
To splash us in our windows.

I must go and shop and then get on with my work.

Darling Sylvia, I adore and love you,
Lawrence

65635235 - Emmaxangel1

How is Giovanni bellini progressing? I must say again how good I think it is.

Yesterday I rang beckett a must write to his publishers and send him a list of what I want. I rang Antal but no answer. Time and Tide I am writing to again today and Stephen potter.

The weather is rather oppressive. The sun has come out now, it is about eleven and it is very bright, so perhaps I can sunbath and write this afternoon.

This paper is part of the vast gift made to me by Paul. I feel a madly professional writer now (Yawolla is very pleased.)

Last night I wrote this poem. I imagined us both a hot and sleepless at our respective windows:

HOT NIGHT

The kind of day is over when in a globe of wool
Flesh sacrificed its sweat: so with the thinnest cover get ready for your sleep, pull the cover to your hips, or get hot and nervous to the window.

The day was damp and heavy that only now repairs
The fever and the clouds weight:
like someone rising from the sea, A beauty mounting stairs, A wind lifts a corner of the night to splash us in our windows.

I must go and shop and them get on with my work.

Darling Sylvia, I adore and love you,

Lawrence

65650480 - rb38mk

II
How is Giovanni progressing? I must say again how good I think it is.
Yesterday I rang Beckett and must write to his publishers and send him a list of what I want. I rang Antal but no answer. Time and Tide I am writing to again today and Stephen Potter.
The weather is rather oppressive. The sun has come out now, it is about eleven and it very bright, so perhaps I can sunbath and write this afternoon.
This paper is part of the vast gift made to me by Paul. I feel a madly professional writer now. (Yawolla is very pleased.)
Last noght I wrote this poem. I imagined us both a hot and sleepless at our respective windows:

HOT NIGHT
The kind of day is over
When in a globe of wool
Flesh sacrificed its sweat:
So with the thinnest cover
Get ready for your sleep, pull
The cover to your hips, or get
Hot and nervous to the window.

The day was damp and heavy
That only now repairs
The fever and the cloud's weight:
Like someone rising from the sea,
A beauty mounting stairs,
A wind lifts a corner of the night
To splash us in our windows.

I must go and shop and then get on with my work.
Darling Sylvia , I adore you and love you,
Lawrence

WINNER - 65692684 - dguent

II
How is Giovanni Bellini progressing? I must say again how good I think it is.
Yesterday I rang Beckett and must write to his publishers and send him a list of what I want. I rang Antal but no answer. Time and Tide I am writing to again today and Stephen Potter.
The weather is rather oppressive. The sun has come out now, it is about eleven and it very bright, so perhaps I can sunbath and write this afternoon.
This paper is part of the vast gift made to me by Paul. I feel a madly professional writer now. (Yawolla is very pleased.)
Last night I wrote this poem. I imagined us both a hot and sleepless at our respective windows:
HOT NIGHT
The kind of day is over
When in a globe of wool
Flesh sacrificed its sweat;
So with the thinnest cover
Get ready for your sleep, pull
The cover to your hips, or get
Hot and nervous to the window.

The day was damp and heavy
That only now repairs
The fever and the cloud's weight:
Like someone rising from the sea,
A beauty mounting stairs,
A wind lifts a corner of the night
To splash us in our windows.

I must go and shop and then get on with my work.
Darling Sylvia, I adore and love you,
Lawrence

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