Osso Bucco

It hasn't been called a day yet, since that coincidence in 2012 brought on us together through a call you made to see if there's anything else behind the veils that we do see, or we do not. The impression is more than enough to siphon one through all the sips and filters and spit out, the individual core. Human dust. We are. You were correct back then, as you are now, in your own way. If ruthless, then with full force, then, when a gentleman drags out a two barreled gun. Shoot thy neighbor if he commits a felony, unseen, not now, nor before. Thus you were an empty bone, pure delight, master of the Osso Bucco. We will miss you, though, as we said, when asked: Will you attend my funeral, once I am proclaimed dead? No, I replied then, I won't, as you will not be there either. You laughed to that, thundering. I hope you laughed all the way through, until dead. You deserved it. I will miss you. Keeping on, the life we live. Thank you.