Charles Bukowski


Waiting for death like a cat that will jump on the bed I am so very sorry for my wife. She will see this stiff white body shake it once, then maybe again... "Hank!" Hank won't answer. It's not my death that worries me, it's my wife left with this pile of nothing. I want to let her know though that all the nights sleeping beside her even the useless arguments were things ever splendid, and the hard words I ever feared to say can now be said: I love you.

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