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I could find another dream

March 30, 2010

Tucking my hair behind my ear reaching for the stemmed glass full of white wine I take a big drink and think about the first 24 hours of my life. Did she stare at me like it was her new career? Did it seem impossible that I was there and born and grew inside her?

What a small little pickle, I am told, I was in my dark green terry cloth sleeper with the feet. A little gerkin. Pickle became a nicname that stuck that I loved and wish someone who knew what that meant still called me.

I could find another dream, one that kept me warm and clean

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One Comment leave one →
  1. April 1, 2010 3:34 am

    “Did she stare at me like it was her new career?” Brilliant. The song is perfect as well.

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