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Sometimes I have to make my own small terror-whirl, fierce cold pounding in the shower, and all I will do is lean back under it, against the wall, watching. Smiling. Did you know this water thing can be dangerous? Did you know it becomes addictive? Do you remember what I said about my rage?

I generally can't stand heat and your heat is included in this. Do not stand near me and you will not have to worry that I will spin in a furious moment, lashing out windy and wild and mad. The only reason I will wait for an August is I know the torrents will come.

It's as simple as this: Can you say Release?

I will let something else do the crazy movement crashing. I will have wind and I will have storm and I will have rage scorn Freedom. I am remembering once when we pretended we were going to melt; scampering across the dripping streets, and how the awnings could do nothing to stop us from exploding.

What have you done with your fury?

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