and as a game i lit it and walked along the corridor with it

i think about forgotten gestures, the multiple signals and words of grandparents, lost little by little, not inherited, fallen one after the other off the tree of time.

julio, you sexist pig, i love you still (for thinking about the misplaced keys).  note to self:  find old series of cantos concerning keys (and pan-cakes).

 and all this reminds me, i still need to see this movie.

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