Today I remembered I am 28 and you were 28 when we met.
What a terrible age to be. Terribly lonely to be in class
reading footnotes. But then I was not 28, so I saved you.
I wore a white dress on the breezeway. I was fixed
and smoking on the breezeway. I was so close to you
I was against you. I was against you but I read you
and wrote to you. I ate late and drank with you. I missed
spanish class entirely. I could have used that spanish
in Mexico City last year. I was sorely missed.
THIS BLOG IS DEAD
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