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Richard Brautigan

As the bruises fade, the lightning aches. Last week, making love, you bit me. Now the blue and dark have gone and yellow bruises grow toward pale daffodils, then paler to become until my body is all my own and what that ever got me. —Richard Brautigan, “As the Bruises Fade, the Lightning Aches,” Rommel… Continue reading Richard Brautigan

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