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In by Lucía on December 3, 2010 at 12:37 am

We traveled together for a few weeks:
he moved through countries
the way I slid into sheets
at night, smooth and calm.  But
he was ready for a certain
rest that I never was able to experience
together with him. He was
a history major; I was learning
about all the new places, while he
was greeting them like
old, familiar friends. They had
never spoken the same
language, but never needed to.
Each new voice was an aria to his ears,
a melody floating
across his eyes, a gentle smile
on his lips as
he talked to the strangers.

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