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Accounting for Everything: Left and Leaving
I can't even describe the dream I had. You were there and you, and you. But you weren't you. You were different.
Twisting and peircing, they went in with disregard. They played Enya. My mother's favorite. I will never hear a song of hers without this feeling. Pulling. Discard. Eyes shut tight.
But I said it was ok. I wanted it.
And you asked me how old he would be. How dare you?
"He"?
Who?
No one.
You wait? If you are 4/4 time, I am 7/8. Out of time, out of sync.
Out of reach.
and reaching.
Goodbye.
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