Friday, November 7, 2014


November 6th, 2008

You're wearing khaki brass-buttoned Tshirt, the one you bought the day you dropped out of med school and decided you're gonna settle for community college because you can't stand the idea of another cadaver being cut open by amateur limbs. Your shirt's fabric is washed out, yet you could care less since it works nicely against your honey-hued hair and flawless skin.

Despite the loud beach's noise behind us, I somehow hear the sound of your laughter and keep wondering if the sea waves were fighting one another attempting to recruit you as the next mermaid addition to their underworld.

I can't take my eyes off of the hazy shade of blue sky above your head, pastel colors always remind me of beautiful Monet paintings and my mother's kitchen.

I feel the timid breeze brushing your hair and I see you trying your best to hide your tremors by maintaining fake calmness to avoid being told you picked the wrong sweater and I wait for you to ask for my jacket but you hate asking for favors.

Novembet 6th, 2014

I wake up panicked and I start to recount one by one the hairs of your eye-lash in my head but I get stuck between 156 and 165, also I can't recall which lipstick color you wore, was it coral or naked Peach?

I'm terrified of losing more details of you. What if I woke up next year and forgot the hazel eyes that sent shivers down my spine? What if I stopped associating bad decisions with you? I must write it down to keep you alive.

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