Sunday, July 12, 2009

Feeble Fiction

Nothing about you looks familiar
you smell different than all the others
your hair is tousled in a way I don't know
the tiny black hairs growing out of your face
are forming a pattern foreign.
you asked me for a spoon to stir your coffee.
none of this actually happened.
I make it up to make me feel better
feeble fiction.

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