Ethan Hawke letter 44, 081124
Letter 081124 practice on death
Dear Ethan Hawke
Babies in the lost mind of god sell sleepwalking videos to childless first-timers. A deer and a deer okay with dying double their dreaming to make a hand. I fall from a tree in a world where something turns blue. Absence writes its name on the neck of loss. In case of return, return. Babies love nothing.
kingsoftrain 
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