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He came today. Visited her at the hospital. She was in a mood, but he brightened the day, bringing her cigarettes and chocolates. He talked of God and the Summer of Love. She was part of that love that summer, but no God for her, least not where she lay in bed, lights out, massaging herself to a sensual joy in the dark. He showed her a jazz LP he'd bought. Boring **** she thought, but didn't say. Her parents didn't come, but he came today. She lay there her passion spent. She ate a chocolate he'd brought. She imagined she'd had *** with him; it was a lonely sport.
0
Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
A Lonely Sport 1967.
He came today. Visited her at the hospital. She was in a mood, but he brightened the day, bringing her cigarettes and chocolates. He talked of God and the Summer of Love. She was part of that love that summer, but no God for her, least not where she lay in bed, lights out, massaging herself to a sensual joy in the dark. He showed her a jazz LP he'd bought. Boring **** she thought, but didn't say. Her parents didn't come, but he came today. She lay there her passion spent. She ate a chocolate he'd brought. She imagined she'd had *** with him; it was a lonely sport.
TerryCollett
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Mar 3, 2018
Mar 3, 2018 at 12:15 PM UTC
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