you inspire me.
2am, almost, & i'm thinking of how the light falling softly on your face reminds me of small children running in the summer rain just across the border seven years ago. & how the smell of american spirit is lingering in my hair like notes of a coltrane song. long. smooth. strong. old soul. these scarlet walls and dark wood floors never heard such things. still, remain unchanged. but i'm not the same girl i was 'round 11pm.
better that way.
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