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Purple Jeans

did you miss my purple jeans, too
tight to be beautiful

the carefree tumble of my hair that you called
yellow, instead of had-been blonde

red lipstick stains on the edges of a glass
we drank Blue Ribbon on the rocks

black boot, steady on the pedal, black
gloves, unsteady on the wheel

my eyes confused as yours, behind
mirrors in the dark

with nothing between a w**** and dead
to the world, we chose dirty and f***ed up, the only way out

you saw me cry, in the grocery store when the
lights had just come on and i saw us on the inside of a
window, holding hands, your hair tangled and radiant,
the red on your neck identical to mine,
except yours didn’t make you blush

and i saw us reflected
in the window, as together as anyone, but still lonely
i wondered if it would be the same reflection in our
apartment window in 5 years, early morning, too much
adventuring written on our faces and we’d die
too young, just young enough, and i’d miss our purple
jeans and red lipstick, so close
we were both beautiful




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