“I’m going to try. I’m going to learn, Violet.” “Learn what?” “Poetry.” “Poetry?” He nods; it’s a jerk of a movement. “I can learn to write poetry. How hard can it be? It’s a drunk man writing about his feelings, right? I read a poem once, Anesthesia by this guy. Abrams or something?”
Awww😭😭😭😭
