Aside

to the freckles

I could stare into her eyes forever.
I don’t even know what color they are.
Every time I see her, I force myself not to look.
I’m terrified that she’ll see
that everything I’ve ever told her is the truth.
It was true when I told her the first time
and the second.
It was true when I thought of telling her.
It was true when I thought it.
It was true when I wouldn’t let myself think it.
It was true before I thought of thinking of it.
It was true before she spoke to me.
It was true before we met
It was true before either of us spoke at all.
It was true before either of us was born.

 

That much truth is terrifying.
So I won’t look her in the eye.
She has beautiful freckles on her nose.
They peak at me through the make up.
I speak to the freckles so that I won’t drown in her eyes.
It is close enough that she can pretend that she doesn’t notice.
And if she ever does it will still be true.
And if she never does it will still be true.

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