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a memory

I remember because Le grande Belleza had just finished playing. I was drowning  in the inevitability of death, in the meaninglessness of existence. And then she held me. In the center of the living room, where the coffee table was supposed to be. It was raining outside and because I had no glass in the windows the whole room smelt like lightly wet soil... and her softness. We just stood there, both afraid and brave. Wondering how long our love would last, falling into the gentle pause of our embrace. Still. Open. Still. There.

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