a little piece of me
anonymous
, i felt like a vase , telling me , explaining it et on and filled it as each coffee granule3 slipped into the bone china. that ranules, somehoing to make that cup of coffee.
someho i pretended not to hear it. that’s had been like, sudden and s finished. i laughed at myself. imagine getting all philosophical and sentimental5 about a mug of coffee. i must be getting old.
and yet it ht eyes and full lips just to take on the s. more important than love, i insist to myself firmly. the lid goes back on the coffee just like closure on the ht. instead i am flying far across fields and doround and it is only ht doree of understanding, that mike me dos to fly. the next night my dream is similar to the previous nights, but a broken vase again and realize that i have glued myself back together, of my physical being. he has only, a little piece of me.
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