polyfilla
for my friend g. and for marie
Can’t have a hole but hope to fill it with something, anything, this thing, polyfilla - let it dry white as chalk, rough and ridged and when sanded so smooth again, can’t see the join can you, as though it was never there, that hole, all better now, only that fine dust that settles on the wall like the grief of February on your face when you forget to hold it just so, I saw it today and unlike the dust it doesn’t wipe off.
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