12 November 2012

There is truth in these intangible dreams.


Dream. You and I were sitting on bar stools drinking whiskey. We were laughing and high-fiving and you were wearing a black t-shirt. A man at the bar had a box of 100 white lilies. His lover rejected them so he handed them out to people at the bar. E was there too; the guy gave her a lily, leaned in close and started flirting. We toasted and said, We're not needed around here. My diamond earrings were in pieces on the bar top. I fixed them and put them into my ears and I could hear again. We tripped out the door and onto the shining wet streets with laughter in our throats. The last days.

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