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2020-08-28T12:05:31-07:00August 28th, 2020|Musings on life|

Secondhand books

Reading a secondhand book
is like having sex
with a new lover.
We know it has been in bed,
in the bath too, perhaps,
with others,
but we cannot think too much
about who came before.
The story is all that matters now;
the rest is a wake of strangers,
united only by our weeping.

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