https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g1z3ajwVgUY
Now its years since your body went flat and even memories of that
are all think and dull, all gravel and glass. But who needs them
now — displaced they’re easily more safe — the worst of it now: I
can’t remember your face.
Return.
For a while, with the vertigo cured, we were alive — we were pure.
The void took the shape of all that you were, but years take their
toll, and things get bent into shape… Antiseptic and tired, I can’t
remember your face.
Return.
You were supposed to grow old. Reckless, unfrightened, and old,
you were supposed to grow old.
Return. You were supposed to return.
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