Part-broken, Part-whole

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To write, I look at my body: Scars like bookmarks,
An archive of fingerprints on my skin.
The lingering odour of a love
That would not let me leave.

In retrospect, I suppose it was never meant to happen. But it did. We happened. We more than happened. We collided with the force of stars. We front-ended one another like meteors that were headed to earth from the blackest corners of space. I always said with a certain wistfulness that the moment I saw you I felt love hit me with lightning square in the chest. Maybe it was not love but something else; pheromones perhaps. But my God, it felt like love. Then again, so many things feel like love and we are fooled when it is and we are fooled when it isn’t.

Our lives were too separate, we were too different, and on opposites sides of pretty much…

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