Lily Grace
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The Forgotten Waltz

There is something so open about a hotel bed, the duvet kicked away; it was like a plinth, or a padded stage, and the shapes we made there were more sweet and anguished for seeming abstract, as we fitted together our jigsaw love, one way, or another... When I think of those hotel rooms, I think of them after we left, and only the air knew what we had done. The door closed so simply behind us: the shape of our love in the room like some forgotten music, beautiful and gone.

---- Anne Enright, The Forgotten Waltz

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