"remember that time when we was walking home from school and we stopped by st. nick park to sit down for a minute and kiss? remember that little white butterfly that came and sat on the back of the bench for a minute, then flew away when i tried to catch it for you? you told me that was the first butterfly you had ever seen in harlem. it was the first one i had ever seen uptown too. i haven't seen one since."

"right now, it looks like the whole sky is filled with white butterflies. i'm standing at 158th and the george washington bridge, right at the walkway looking down at the water. i ripped all the letters you ever sent me up in little pieces, so small that anybody who finds a piece would barely be able to read the words. little by little, i'm letting the wind carry the pieces away. they're flying and dancing and soaring like that butterfly we saw that day. i'm letting you go, i'm finally letting go."

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