February 15, 2005 | 6:49 p.m.
i'll never see this place again.

and went to sleep, your smell still in my bed, my clothes, my hair. rolled over, your hands still stuffed in my pockets. and stretched out my legs, masses of muscles frayed humdrum from all that walking [towards, away from you]. and curled back my legs, small ropes of fire blown out by your breathing.