echo's vigil

Libby McDonnell

letter #3

in one version of the myth, we never met. while you were going stiff over your reflection, I
sang: the woods, flowers on the path, aflutter. I was a happy virgin. to think people actually
believe you broke my heart!

then pan ripped me to pieces

we have one thing in common: no one 
                    can fucking leave a virgin alone

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