A blotch of blue lay across my skin.
It reminds me of something distant and far.
Remember, when you spoke of the colors that suited me?
"Black and blue," you said, striking my cheek.
Although, it never turned black, nor blue, you admired the pinkish tone that arose.
I remember. You would gracefully trace the imprint with your fingertips, and lean in
closer.
"I love you," you would say.
Stinging and tingling, I would bring my hand upward, and wipe away the streaks of tears.
"I love you too," I would say.
Oh, how I wish the memory would wash itself away...















Comments
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"I love having those at Easter. It's two hundred and seventeen days until Easter. Perhaps i should be a little more realistic... I might just get that. It's one hundred and thirteen days til Christmas."
Before I die - Jenny Downham
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"I love having those at Easter. It's two hundred and seventeen days until Easter. Perhaps i should be a little more realistic... I might just get that. It's one hundred and thirteen days til Christmas."
Before I die - Jenny Downham
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