I am dreaming of tomorrow of a tidy house and the soft cheek of my babe and time and making soup and listening to the radio drinking a second cup of coffee and writing and unpacking and putting my holiday purchases into my drawers and drifting in mundanity and the bliss of being and laughing with the eldest as we walk to school and work forgotten in my briefcase in my car and thinking of writing and imagining another world and folding unfolding dividing and joining and space and time being here and now and my head not rushing five months into the future and holding the softness of time and suddenly i understand the unbearable lightness of being.
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