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Summary
“I dreamed of my grave. A great mausoleum of marble and my matching casket. I dreamed of a thief with golden skin prying off the lid with nothing but whispers, and finding my rosy corpse inside. A contortionist’s tomb, limbs snapped and arranged at odd angles to fit inside of the tiny box where I was supposed to rest forever. I dreamed of dark eyes softening with awe, and soft lips parting on a gasp.
“Oh…” he breathed with reverence, at the garden that was growing around my bones.”