trapeze-act's Diaryland Diary

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Four years ago

There are rows of unflattering flourescent light stretching from door to door, hallway to hallway. My skin looks pasty and green here. I want to be outside.

We sat on the same cold blue bench every day for two years. One of the few things getting me out of bed each morning was the chance that our legs may brush against each other.

It happens. I picture you naked. You wonder why I'm staring at you.

I start rambling about nothing important and I feel your hand against my face.

My heart sinks. The blood rushes between my legs. I look at you with words of confusion painted on my face.

"You had a hair in your mouth."

We part ways. I never see you again.

8:18 PM - February 18, 2011

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