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47 Your Dead Lovers Do they weigh on you? How do they weigh on you? I want the full, lascivious information. I want the detail of bone and breath and position. I have no good intention in this matter. I have an almost sneering curiosity. How does it feel now? Wistful? Melancholic? Or is it all the spirit of your later life, the dark, orgasmic night receding? There is no honor in my asking— there is only a ragged self-interest, and worse, a frantic knocking for you to let me in. ...

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