Wednesday, July 25th, 2001 | 14:32
The back of your neck when you seemed real

Your bloody knees and her bleached blond hair,

Hanging over a book, in a way, that way,

Remind [you / me] of a sparkling day.

I resent it completely,

I know I can never have it back.


Tattoos, I could stare at the back of your neck forever.

"Who's fault is it then, mine?"

I read it and thought about the irony and even more serendipity,

Pushing the hair out of my eyes the way I always wanted to.

The first minute living in Her Brand New Skin

Let me realize how you are never there.

Not even now, when I see almost half, are you really anywhere at all.


Only to me

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