Nha cretcheu, my love, being together again will brighten our lives for at least thirty years. I’ll come back to you strong and loving. I wish I could offer you a hundred thousand cigarettes, a dozen fancy dresses, a car, that little lava house you always dreamed of, a threepenny bouquet. But most of all, drink a bottle of good wine and think of me. Here it’s nothing but work. There are over a hundred of us now. Two days ago, for my birthday, I thought about you for a long while. Did my letter arrive safely? Still nothing from you. Some other time. Every day, every minute, I learn beautiful new words for you and me alone made to fit us both, like fine silk pyjamas. Wouldn’t you like that? I can only send you one letter a month. Still nothing from you. Some other time. I often get scared building these walls. me with a pick and cement, you with your silence, a pit so deep, it swallows you up. It hurts to see these horrors that I don’t want to see. Your lovely hair slips through my fingers like dry grass. Often, I feel weak and think I’m going to forget you.