Saturday 1/26/2008 01:30:00 AM

Dirty fudgesicles make this coldness a religion. Arrows at the back of her throat point in every direction. He could've saved me. Had he only saved himself first.

Not that I needed to be saved.

Or wanted to.

I could stand up every domino and still not be dsiappointed when they fall.

Ice cubes melting.

Just like we do.

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