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Cannonball I remember her as sweet and small and blonde - wrapped in a protective sense of humor, from a family of thin heartbreaking women with high cheekbones, tiny noses and large breasts. I was married for a short time to one of her relations - part of the reason I very nearly died young. And her life has lost its meaning - she says she finds so little reason to go on, and jokes she always had a crush on me, though she was just a child when I saw her last. No, I did see her briefly later on - very tan, very pregnant, still very young - passing quickly through town - and I bought a rebuilt battery for her car, ans she was gone. And she is unattached and so lonely now she tells me on the phone and asks I come and stay with her a while, just a few days and talk about old times. And I cannot help but go though if I could I'd leave my heart behind So I have to find a way to wrap my heart up carefully in something like gold foil, like that special chocolate in the box you save for last - though if the past is prelude, and with me it always is I might as well stuff it down the barrel now and light the fuse and back away, send it winging over the wall - cut the suspense, find out if it can take it one more time. She's not so strong as she once thought, she says and I tell her in all honesty I understand.
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