I still have a little ache inside me for you, you know. Maybe it's for you, or maybe it's for the you I thought you were. Then again, it might be for your sister, or the last girl I kissed for real, or that punk on the train with the blue hair. It might be for any number of women with accents-- British, Aussie, Kiwi, or deep American south.
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Beautiful words that make me want to hold you, an almost complete stranger, until you smile again.
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My favorite line: "If I could, I would decant it, sliding the ache off as it floats on top of the rest of my life..."
This would be great for you to read aloud someday.
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