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“I’m burning all the time. My pockets full of matches and lighters, the blue smoke crawling out like a skinny ghost from between my lips. My lungs on fire, the wings of them falling from the open sky.” — Matthew Dickman
I’m burning all the time. My pockets full of matches and lighters, the blue smoke crawling out like a skinny ghost from between my lips. My lungs on fire, the wings of them falling from the open sky.