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Gone | Nov 08 2002

Those words I wrote back there, they bored me. What I want, what draws me in, is to close my eyes and think of you. I doubt I would find words for that. At times there is sex in it, or the sense of sex. When the sex is there, there are things I do to you. Like, say, [gone]. Do you get me? I don’t have the words to say it. But most times are not so clear, nor so much a thing done by me to you, or you to me, or each to each, joined. It is more like what I said just now, a sense. All we do is speak, it is the same as now when we speak, and the words we speak are not so much the point, as now, but how close we are to speak so.