March 7, Yet another poem about that girl I love

warm and beautiful anna –
you aren’t mine, I can never own you

but it’s never about that,
it’s about me reading to you over the phone
sometimes,

and I really like that.

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January 22, Anna

she does not drink alcohol
tastes like dancing
with her voice
with her sounds
reminds me of cotton leaves
the stuff they make bed sheets out of
and I feel like I’m drowning
in her absence
because liking her is like breathing
I don’t have to think about it
I just do.