The wind blows in fury, a gale, like everything is amiss. It shakes the foundations of your little Victorian home, makes you think of wolves. The night is warm, all out of place.
He ruins your night by claiming the space for his own, by claiming you smile, your hair, your walk down the grocery aisle, you wonder what it means to own someone and you wish you couldn’t imagine the feeling. Pay the check before the glass is empty. She says tomorrow we make French toast.
You wonder how many friends it takes to erase
And entire foundation of society around you.
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