the last thing i will ever say about that

the first part can't matter because origins and beginnings never end because they never really start because they are always already, and the middle part was not for anyone else to know, and the ending was so much in public that it took a lot more water than we had to get our hands clean.  so i would live in the middle if i could but i'm supposed to be somewhere over here in the river of time, and i suppose i am way over here, but we don't live in one time or one place ever, unless we are very very dense, and that's never been true for us.  except in one degree.  maybe two, or a few more, but not in the usual way. 

so at the end of the day it doesn't matter what they said, and it doesn't matter what i hear, and it shouldn't matter what you hear because the only thing that was really true about any of this was what you heard from me and what i heard from your mouth, and if i could have your words over me like a blanket then maybe just maybe your meaning would keep me warm, and it's what i would do for you on the rainiest days, or the ones where there are no wolves knocking at your door and all the foxes are keeping themselves well hid.

i won't speak about it again. 


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