Saturday, December 17, 2011

love letter to an anonymous future lover written on october 23, 2001 in iowa city


Do you think--no. You must not think you are the only person who feels lonely. Like an overlooked genius far from her temperate climate. No. We are not the only people who find it difficult moving around in our skin, trying to make our own skin adapt to this stupid new world. Can't do that though. Here, our skin is the only thing we have--the only thing we share a story with. We can't recreate it. That would be suicide. No, we don't have the only aching arms or the only cold pillows or the only inside jokes between ourselves and ourselves. We aren't the only ones who daydream.



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