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Folds and Shadows
We go driving at night, and your face is folds and shadows. You are close enough to touch and even now I can’t see you. I am beginning to forget what you look like. The streetlamp peaks light on your hair, your brow, the edge of your nose. You stare straight ahead, you move only when necessary, you say nothing, but under the streetlights, your face is fluid. Broken into fragments, orange strips of curved light, it contorts and shifts as the lamps pass by overhead. Nothing else is changing, and I don’t know who you are anymore, and the car is laced with silence and artificial light. |
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Folds and Shadows
10.1.03 108 words |