Is it found in drinking in the tone of voice, seeing the color of a person's clothes, the pause and list of a step, the curve of a cheekbone? Is it found in committing all to memory, one year piled on top of another, then unexpectantly... remembering? Is leaving a person for one hour, one day, one month preparation for having them leave forever?
Have all the leavings, of all the people I have loved, come to visit me today?
Probably.
This Is What I Look Like
And This Is What I Look Like When Writing
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