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Bleary
I. You tucked my hair behind my ear and brushed your hand across my cheek. “You understand so much more than me,” you say. I know.
II. I remember all the times you've made me cry by waving my hands in front of my face and counting the all fingers I can see. In the semi-darkness, we are a blur.
III. You would repeat, “I don't see what you see in her,” until I saw nothing but you, you clever boy.
IV. Our competitive selfishness burned holes in the back our heads and wrung our necks dry.
V. Tenderness rarely reaches you. I cringe as I watch your softness turn solid under pressure.
VI. "We're still young and elastic," you try to remind me, but the age in your eyes shatters your promise.
VII. Separately, fate assures us we are alone and aching. Together, there is no discrepancy.
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