30 December 2009


The day we said goodbye wasn’t the time I saw you biking with your surfboard on your block. I think it was that time I biked home from the library at midnight in 30 degree weather. I had forgotten the route I’d taken a thousand times and ended up by the beaming lights. It wasn’t the ocean wind that blew me away. I think it was realizing that because our language is tacit, we’d know each other long after we’d part. Like a song that circles the island after the crowd's gone home, you're the silver lining of every ___ tale.

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