Time passes in her periphery, vaguely realized like REM dreams and reflections in foggy mirrors and those first few days after a heartbreak. It's something so many overlook in favor of what they think are even bigger, more important things: pain and atrophy, loss of dignity and a sense of uselessness, anger and frustration and redemption there
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(That's at least twice a day, just so there's no love and/or sanitation ambiguities.)
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