Afterward, Isabel drove me home and I shut myself in the study with Rilke, and I read and I wanted. And leaving you (there arent words to untangle it) Your life, fearful and immense and blossoming, So that, sometimes frustrated, and sometimes understanding Your life is sometimes a stone in you, and then, a star I was beginning to undertand poetry.
Where do you live?" Adam's mouth was very set. "A place made for leaving" "That's not really an answer." "It's not really a place.
Peeling off my skin / leaving just my eyes behind / You see inside my head / Still know that you are mine.
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