Every aching wound

Will cauterize and bruise

In memory of what we used to call “in love”

Only time will tell

If violins will swell

In memory of what we used to call “in love”

People keep dying. Sandy’s father (my mother’s boss’s step-dad [natural causes]), my grandmother (natural causes),  Heather William’s father (stabbed to death).

What do you want to do before you die?