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Secret Way

January 11, 2012

I uncurl from your warmth. It’s 5:00 am. We hurry up the narrow stairs, walk into the paint-chipped terrace. We dodge our neighbor’s wind-clinged bed sheets, freshly washed. Wet. You sit cross-legged.

I am laughing. I already know I will remember this forever. I am right. Years later, I will promise to remember only the good and in a frenzy, I will toss everything else away. Like a coin flipped and forgotten. I will leave behind lingered-over coffee, rage-soaked napkins. The air sniffs, already warning me from my contentment. We try to catch the fog in a lie.

Dark nights clutter up inside me. It’s the secret way I ache for you.

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