How many galaxies lost, suns drawn in margins round the holes for binders, the day I shredded nine years of notebooks?

What’s your greatest fear? (Is this a game people play at a typical bachelorette?)

She shrugs to say, “That I’ll be unhappy, one day?”

I smile/suppose I’m like that. I don’t want to end up your roommate.

With sheets berried and striped what screw do you hope to turn?

Whatsamatter. Whatsamatter? Whatsamatter! You.

It don’t matter so long as there’s a screw to hold onto.

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