A thing was one thing, and yet also another, and so was she. And show was see. The tomb of the town, the womb. The bloom of the flowers. The gloom of the mourners. Each turning their faces up to the sun, the darkened sky, looking for life, for rain, for clear skies. A sign. For answers. For a cartoon hand to come down from the sky and smooth the edges. Trim the hedges. Like it used to. Used too. Woo, blew, hoot, hinder and help. A thing was one thing. But it could be two. I could be you.


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