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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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