Chronicle One: Too many days..
Too many days have passed since I have seen my love,
his tender nostrils that once caressed my lower back. He
never minded when my legs were hairy - in fact, he may have
liked it. The wet uptown streets mean nothing without his
shoes sliding along them. Now, the streets are wet always
with my tears. What is a girl to do?
All I know is that I yearn for him daily. Outside of
the drug store I sat today, smoking a Marlboro Light. My
eyes were burning from the smoke and sadness.
What I remember most was the rough and tumble when we
were both sunburnt in Cuba. Refugees none the less, we took
the sun as our camoflauge, but our hot love could not
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