I learned to love as I meandered the aisles and deliberated over melons and pears, each passing my brief ripeness test. I suppose I have low standards.
I remembered my manners when we, as five-year-olds, spread ourselves out upon the carpet of your living room...that beautiful house, your beautiful face. Alexandra. You stole my favorite hair clip, with the ribbons exploding like soda cans in the primary colors. That was probably for the best.
I reminded myself to talk as the two of us walked side-by-side to the playground that frigid night. I could see your breath in midair: all of your words and phrases warming up the air around us. There are days when I admire you so much.
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