Medea I / DeviceAnna Maria Hong
I’ll tell you plainly my dear that my heart broke like a blade when the news hit me, and I know that word makes you stop short. So strange, after all, to see just the tip. They say the shadow self trails us for fathoms like a dirty tail. Ignore my mixed comparisons. I’m not my best. Yesterday, you had me still. From now, we will not exist. That will be odd, but so was happiness. I know it’s destiny, the way I know the Argo is a blessed ship. It’s just a fact and just fantastic, the way my whole life has been. The power. The magic. And now the metaphors stop.
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