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The space his leaving creates, I have tried to fill with bodies that numbed my skin. In them I had expected to find his opposites; I found only forgeries.When I think of his sparkling face, and of his body that rocked me this way and that; when I think of his laughter, his jubilance that filled me, it's a wonder I'm not gone mad.He is a fiction I've made, yet I cannot stop longing for him. Craving sensation new flesh cannot wholly calm; perhaps it's for more than him.