she wrote me a letter
that made my chest-walls buckle--
so when i greeted her today,
i slid my lips beneath the bag
they'd bow-tied at her neck and
marked with "broken,"
i pressed my lips to the bone
and whispered
"they lied."
she called me pretty
and i didn't even doubt it;
she tells truths,
i know because she wrote her note in pen.
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