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A Complete History Of Arson
let me tell you about the dream in which
you told me you were lying when
you said you’d stopped loving me.
A Eulogy For The Living: On Grieving Someone Who Isn’t Dead
Perhaps writing is a funeral service all its own. An admittance that this is no longer flesh and blood, but paper and ink. This is the rendering of our love into the world of dead things. This is flowers on the grave.
