miss being looked at with
round eyes.
looks that had length:
ones which no smoke,
no drink,
could enhance
because they were already
heavily impaired with
adoration
(or desperation).
i miss the smooth feel
of others,
those which gravitated towards
me,
my body,
my face.
i miss feeling certain,
or at least having someone
to convince me
that’s what i was.
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