24 March 2009

201

before the sun rose, i heard you count to ten in your head,
like retracing footsteps, or memory, digging it out from a grave.

this one time you traced my fingers on your body,
and it was so soft like ripples in water,
and i could have sworn i heard these girls laughing outside, at me, and at my scratchy skin.

yeah, i have terrible eyesight,
and i can't see between wrong and right,
but i know for a fact that yesterday was right and today was wrong.

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