I read these letters I've written,
One was to be continued,
I must have been dreaming,
It made no sense.
Dreaming.
No one has three dresses,
the couple are strangers.
I'll never find them anyway,
the list.
Dreaming no more.
You do,
I do.
Why didn't he say some words like we do?
All was there,
no dress,
no shiny shoes,
no list,
no dreaming.
All was good.
Me,
You,
This Preacher,
His witnesses.
Witness His counsel he...
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