His face tasted the same but I just should not have ever done that – these fledgingly obvious twenty-three years pressed fair remiss against my far wiser albeit seriously reminiscent forty-two-year-old patchwork chest
What lies beneath
Thumping, attempting to pump your father’s own teenage blood right on back through me
Alarmingly obvious for all of you to see
A queue which sure could wait, for I wanted to parcel wrap fate one way or another
Your father and I were an item way back when stories were told to be best left forgotten
James Dean only multiplied by ten, across upon my high school abacus at least
Before it all turned oh so crushingly pain-filled – far too equivalent
Downright eye-filled sour
I will forever hold my senior prom pink flower oh so very close
Nonetheless, he still tries to swim fair imaginatively inside of my stain-filled mind
I will and can find a way to bring him right back to me
Soon as I unearth the right kind of line, right sentence… right cologne-scented page altogether
So you know, I stole one such bee-stung kiss twenty-four years amiss to remind myself, rewind oh so delicately
Deliciously even

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