(It's better to create than destroy what's unnecessary)

Friday, January 30, 2009

A Sport And A Pastime - pg. 183

After they lie a long time in silence. There is nothing. Their poem is scattered about them. The days have fallen everywhere,  the have  collapsed  like cards. The air has a chill in it. He pulls the covers up. She is so perfectly still she seems asleep. He touches her face. It is wet with tears.

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