"I broke my heart in two
So hard I struck.
What matter? for I know
That out of rock,
Out of a desolate source,
Love leaps upon its course."
W.B. Yeats, Words for music perhaps and other poems, XI (1932)
She turns towards me while opening the door — The two cavities under her collarbones, dark under the scorching lightbulb — — Her shirt...
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