Today’s Friday Firstliner is from Just Kids by Patti Smith, a memoir:
” I was asleep when he died. I had called the hospital to say one more good night, but he had gone under, beneath layers of morphine. I held the receiver and listened to his labored breathing through the phone, knowing I would never hear him again.”
This is the story of the strange relationship between Patti Smith and Robert Mapplethorpe during the late 60s and early 70s at the height of the drugs and hippies’ culture of New York.

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