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I'm trying to picture the scene inside, like I was trying to picture the scene in the tree.

kind of mythopoesis

like people can read 100 books and still not have the fire within them

The slug lives in my bathroom. I only see it in the early hours of the morning, when I'm not quite right.

I wonder if she knew I was down there listening? I wonder if she would've said something more true, more personal, more raw, more heartfelt, more harsh, more seductive, more freeing, more exposing, more risky, more romantic, more rude, more honest, more anything, if there hadn't been an audience.