Tuesday, July 28, 2009


I don't know if I ever really wanted children, but sometimes I wish your son was our son.

And having avoided it for years, I recently learned your new last name. Your old one was better, but not as good as the one you used to write in your notebooks.

"Please, remember me; fondly
I heard from someone you're still pretty
And then they went on to say...
That the pearly gates... had some eloquent graffiti
Like 'We'll meet again' "

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