| *loolaville _poetry | |||||
| Unsaid You wrote me a letter from California six days ago, and once again you render me startled and speechless save the occasional "fuck." I thought I could leave your mispelled words with all of my memories back in Indiana. Back in the time and space we made our own, figuring out life over a few beers and laughter. It's hard to say I miss you without remembering what it felt like to want you and that forever-never-ending ache ot see your bright blue eyes look back at me in love. And in the letter I write you, all these thoughts will go unsaid. |
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