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Jul 2014
i'm sitting in this car and for some reason i can feel my heartbeat
throbbing in my back,
i think of the last time i thought about you, and how
i wanted to die because i can't be with you; how
melodramatic and filled with these unavoidable clichΓ©s
i am

i love
you, tenderly
         totally
         tragically.

my window rolled down, and the weather is dry
as my eyes in this night
but it should be monsooning because
inside, my heart is a river and i'm just trying
to stay afloat.

i'll never look at my hands the same way again,
not after i saw the way they looked interlocked with yours
and my fingers are tainted by your lips, the way
you kissed them so gently and told me
they were beautiful.

i see things that remind me of you
- stripes, for example - and
i have to stop for a moment
because i'm shuddering under a crashing wave
of you, you, you,

smilelipsteethtongueeyeshairvoicehandssoftroughmeyou
my mind doesn't hold memories; it holds moments of
perfection, and
you are my perfect moment.

"I try."
"You don't have to."
Annabel Lee
Written by
Annabel Lee  New York
(New York)   
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