all lights are out and all bets are off. we stand in the driveway of my childhood home, your lean lines a sprawling angular darkness against my car, my awkward hands anchored in pockets. i stare up at a face i've known for five years, loved for four, and resented for god-knows-how-many. here we are finally strangers because my tongue has swollen
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1) because you'd write me this amazing prose.
2) - but more importantly! because I'd be dating YOU
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(though I suppose now and again some allowances can be made)
Mimi, whenever I read anything you write, I feel tangible, physical sensations. This in particular... November wind, chapped hands, sticky eyelashes and tight cheeks from dried tears. How do you do that?
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also, you've pretty much just capped everything i felt that night. i'm pretty sure we've got psychic connections.
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