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I try to think back to a time when the bite mark on my forearm wasn’t there, but it’s useless; it’s there now and nothing will be able to erase it from the cellular memory of my skin.

Two lovers kissing on the bus. I spot them with the corner of my eye. I turn away, smiling shyly and wryly all at once.

I think of a time when the sky was simply blue and my heart was red and nothing more. A time when I was a kid in my heart and my mind. When hearts were easier to break (or maybe harder?).

A time when the seconds were countless and the future was far away. When winter left late and spring came early. When the sun was warm on my face. And a hand was warm in my hand.

 

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