I Remember

By: Sora Gordon

I remember the way those high heels pinched (but beauty is pain and those shoes?

were hot)

I remember the sticky, sweaty heat of that old leather jacket (not quite, but almost,

as hot as those heels, so)

I remember feigning exhaustion so I could lay my head on your shoulder (was it      wishful thinking, or did you lean in too?)

I remember hearing your stories about falling in love (and knowing that is not at

all what this is)

I remember walking home alone in the dark rather than hailing a cab (better uses

for those eight dollars anyway)

I remember the dewy pavement on the dozing streets of the City (because it only    dozes, never sleeps, or so its residents say)

I remember hoping you’d call so I’d know that you cared (you texted, I sighed, and pretended it was just as good)


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