a clock only counts for so long

i thought of her gingersweet hair early in the morning,

with the taste of old milk on my tongue.

of her skin; bumpy pearly white with browned freckles and lovely little blushing spots

tic, tic, tic;

there's a pain in some strange place on my chest, just slightly above my ribs in the middle under my collarbone

sometimes i wish i was at a distant place

The End

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