"clothes on, different image"
i found his notes in her
pocket.
i lingered on every word until it
hurt.
it felt like wispy fall air.
maybe she loved me
then or maybe i was lost in the way her nails
dug into my skin.
days later i'm sitting at the end of a bar fantasizing
about having a house and a
car.
a suburban desperado;
with nothing to claim for his own.
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