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You get dumped on Valentine's day and decide to bury your sorrows in a bottle of Absinth and Sappho's poetry. Finishing the bottle, but not the book, you mind wonders what wisdom she could impart to your broken heart. Your body wonders what those lips taste like. Your thoughts and emotions swirl and spin with the room. You grow quite euphorically disoriented, then black out from delight. The spinning stops and you feel the heat of the midday sun above you and the hard scrabble of the ground below. Then you hear her voice.