Steve Brezenoff

“Your song crept over me as I drifted, the room spinning ever so slightly, and I rolled onto my side and pulled up my knees, facing the back of the couch, and put my hands up together by my chin, like your music was a blanket I could gather around me.”

Steve Brezenoff, Brooklyn, Burning
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Brooklyn, Burning Brooklyn, Burning by Steve Brezenoff
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