Inman: This doesn't come out right,
If it were enough just to stand,
without the words...
Ada: It is.
It is.
Inman: You... Look,
Look, Look at the sky now,
What color is it?
Or the way... a hawk flies?
Or you wake up...
and your ribs are bruised
thinking so hard on somebody,
What do you call that?
Saturday, June 19, 2010
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