Paris in the fall; we spent hours trekking through Montmartre on a mission to find Jim Morrisons's grave. Turned out we were in the wrong fucking cemetery the whole time.
she took three paces through the room
she saw the water lily bloom
she saw the helmet and the plume
she look'd down to camelot
out flew the web and flloated wide
the mirror cracked from side to side
'the curse is come upon me!' cried
the lady of shallott"
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