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February 20, 2008
You the one who crept into my room on Christmas Eve with a bowl of frozen cherries and two leather belts. Cruel friend from my deepest winter.

You expected me to be so impressed with you. I was, if only with your audacity. You feared nothing not sleepwalking watchmen, not scalding hot pipes. You baptized me in battery acid.

I kept sneaking away to you, knowing you saw nothing in me but Florin trash.

When I caught her car in your driveway, I wept with anger. Not because I loved you, but because I had scattered my pearls so carelessly.