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after he’d made a knot
to his son’s Dior tie & sent him off I am sure he turned something on like a radio, played some blues then rested his hands on a pillow although I would’ve preferred them on me and I know he had the feeling grandpa used to feel when all his hay was sheltered and the rain could start if it wanted to but I wasn’t there, nor the mum of his son I almost went into his room showed him my red painted nails put his arms around to dance he would’ve liked that now, I kept quiet instead never told him it is too late and there was a time, yeah yet, I am proud
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