We're lying in bed reading and I'm thinking of when we're dead. The path to death really -- neither are as dark as they seem. In fact, when I get up to get another book and you watch my reentering the room, I say, You looking at my Adonis body? You say, Pose. I mock a statue at the Met.
Now the light is on your book and face and you're nearing my favorite expression: focus oblivious to everything else.
This is about death, I guess, because the path to it is filled with these forgetful moments. When we're gone, no one will know them, but I'm glad to now notice them.
Now the light is on your book and face and you're nearing my favorite expression: focus oblivious to everything else.
This is about death, I guess, because the path to it is filled with these forgetful moments. When we're gone, no one will know them, but I'm glad to now notice them.
Yes. Hell yes.
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