8.31.2009

ambiguous enough for you

I don't even remember half the things we said. Nights had to be never-ending. Summer dead and damp, took one look at this place and didn't even bother unpacking her bags.

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The end of it all in three days, the end for the last time; why does this feel like the bottom of my childhood? I tried to tell you I wasn't an adult yet, like a butterfly with two-thirds wings. You said, it doesn't work like that.

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Dipping down below the Mason-Dixon, scenery the same for five hundred miles, the birds behind all our eyes brown and grey. I miss so much, I miss everything, I miss the sand soggy at high tide and the sweaty ocean, I even miss the mosquitoes if it means more.

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It's easy to forget the beauty and the bright lights when familiarity shades the heart, alley lamps shine into a bedroom window but even with the lights off I can see your eyes are open

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Sea-Bird Island. I like that.