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He 1999 had picked the name Keith. You 1999 invited Keith over. Keith followed you home down Santa Monica Boulevard. It was the night you came closest to being fucked. It was a Saturday night, the night you usually make a weekly call to your mother in India. But you didnt call because Keith would awaken. Still, you missed your mother. Something about the library and books and the families and reading together, silently. So your crying awakened him. 1999 And Keith, the stranger, said, "Shes there, you are here, its your life now." And you just stared at him, your big black eyes brimming with disdain. Keith was becoming stranger as you stared. Keith, whose come was still drying on your chest hair. He would ask you to stop staring.
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