I tear through her journal like a crazed ex-husband who just got out of prison. With 39 love letters sealed with her tongue in his suitcase and a 40 oz. of Old Milwaukee he rampages through her drawers, her closets, even taps the ground for loose floorboards, searching out of paranoia. He was left alone on that gray cement too long. He grew strong
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~la~
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~Lo
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