Ode To Matthew ShepardSteve Fellner
Once I hit someone I loved. It wasn’t very hard. But I hit him. I hit him in the way you hit someone you need to stop loving you. I can still remember the way the body looked when I hit it. It was ruined with my knowing you could hurt a body and it still needs something more than your pain. Narrative is as corrupt as the thoughts of the men who murdered you, Matthew. Explanation never satisfies. It always wants something like redemption.
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