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Friday, April 27, 2012

you are: my battered copy of lolita.


i think it’s strangely
tiring to be
loved,
it leaves you
worn and tattered
like a beloved book
marked teen lit-
erature. 
love is the 
human 
equivalent of
dog-eared pages— 
whole passages
high lighted,
notes scribbled in
the margins.
it’s exhausting and
exhilarating—
always in
the
present tense. 

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