A hungry post

My love,

I saw you the other night at the bar
You look happy and naïve
I don’t remember when you became a memory
I don’t know where you found the time to destroy your mirror truth
I was always too busy for all that staff
You look so ugly and not mine
You said you will always be mine
But I am against the idea of property
So I chose to hate you
Next time we will be 80 years old
I will be taller
You will have a name

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your smoke in my face