When the bright light's been turned off, you don't know who is in your bed.
03.19.10 - 10:06 p.m. We look a like, we don't look anything alike-- how much of you is locked against me? Who are you, to whose bed I keep coming? And is it me around which you are curling, when it is my body there, or..? (If I don't quicken you, I can live slowly. It would be all right. I promise.)
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