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A week after we broke up, I allowed
Myself the pleasure of the dainties of pain.
This time without the luxury of tears.
I let it get worked up. In the throat,
In the heart. Who would have believed…
Rosa:Oh, is that you, my friend . . . I was beginning to wonder why I haven’t seen you for two days; I was about to accuse you . . . I was inclined to think that you didn’t want to see…