On the Sawgrass the sun was setting over the Everglades and the power lines were beautiful. Everything glowed with life and I could see the dust light up on my dashboard. It was cold and my hair was wet and we were listening to Bees. When we got home, I put on the lamps and The Milk-Eyed Mender. Cherie opened the windows and cooked. With the harp and wind, I wanted to lay on the couch forever.
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