i scan the eyes on the streetis it you?is it you?is it...no.
with your bangs cut right above the browswith your tighted legsyour funky bootsi feel your clothesdifferent they aresee them on shelves, hung in closetslong hairs clutching the weave of clinging sweatersand sueded skirts
i smell the candlelightthe clutched december walksyour friends that laughthe ease which i feelthe safety
i taste your skintaut. white. smooth. new.
you tell me i don't know what i'm talking aboutand i think you may be right.you smile and i agree.
the way you pick up a forkthe moment of study before you actthe carethe considerationlithe grace
i want to believe in youbelieve in the next life that comesthe life that might await meif the courage finds me
she's gonein my eyesdo not be afraid.
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