Pollock
Here,’ she said, so beautiful, so serene, ‘just above the elbow, it won’t do much more than sting, but just for a little while.’
‘How long?’
A moment passed. Her perfume lingered.
Then she moved to the next man.
Whose unravelling dreamscapes could not have possibly been as beautiful as mine, if only I could remember them.
Pollock
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