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My dead mother was playing me like a flute. The melodic tone of my phrase, the coda. I stopped, stood still until all of myself had poured like sand into the soles of my feet. My minds inner ear pricked up, my gut pointing like a hound dog my body stacked in pounce mode. I know with my close fr.

New Year, new Instagram account. I have a new Instagram account. Max and his reindeer jumper. Beautiful clothes and the decade long party.