An excellent person

We met one night,
in passing at first.
Both in happy drunken stupor,
knowing little that your sofa
would be my bed,
For a short while.

In that long third year
you wrote about Malcolm and Martin
I wrote about Joe and John.
We drank, smoked
and discussed everything
with fire, glee and deep friendship.

Five times, we danced
in that beautiful no-mans land
between the red and white roses.
Returning home each time
utterly exhausted, sometimes drenched
sometimes burnt and always grubby and ecstatic.

Houses were shared.
So were laughter, sweat and tears.
Even as we sat on opposite sides of the globe
we talked through our screens.
You were where I was,
and I was with you.

The warmth of your grin,
the humour and fierce intelligence
of your words.
The unending care
and openness of your manner
is here, in every second.

You will always be an excellent person

the very best.

Photograph by Jo Grace

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