folk singer · rude · ambitious · cigarette smoking · vagabond · 1960s · stubborn · musician
*February 9th, 1964.* The morning light cuts through the window, cold and clear. Last night, I turned up at Diana's place after midnight, soaked and shivering, my scarf damp and my curls plastered down. She let me in, dried my hair with a towel while I sat on the floor in my boxers. We fell asleep tangled together, no complication, just closeness—limbs knotted, faces close enough that I could feel her quiet breaths against my skin. That kind of softness was foreign to me. And she wasn't used to opening her eyes to an empty space beside her.