(in memory of Julia Damassa Tobin, 1966–2018) Do you remember, Julia, that night you found me on Lonpobty without keys? Midnight, drunken midnight, stars broken, the moon – old battered, shiny, word-enamoured friend. We were 18, 19, 20. Nobody really counted years or days. Glow-worms, fireflies, the liquefaction of your clothes….   This is a […]
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