She licked me. My wounds that is. All it took was time. Silenced time. And then healing beams of sun would cover us again. In the picture that I took she was young, it was back in the days that girl sheep were allowed to wear a certain age and pull off wearing wool and photograph themselves against a canvas picture in a bedroom. It were times where life was lived in full color, full of options to play with spiders on the balcony. It was on that balcony that we found out it all ended. Feeling sad. Feeling good. The sun blessed us with clarity, it warmed us , and did nothing but accept the way we hurt. She blessed me for being such the gentlemäh. Now she had the opportunity to touch spiders.

I could live hundred lives, you know, she always said. Clone me a hundred times, and let me be with hundred sheep, eat hundred bundles of clovers, have hundred meadows to frolic in and see hundred different colors of green. I knew I could do this for her, so I would never have to choose one. It would still be her, always.

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