2002-01-09 || 10:49 p.m.

|| 'for her eyes only' ||

i got a letter in the mail with the most beautiful handmade envelope, typewritten and clouded with evaporated alcohol of cologne bought at the grocery store (i can see it in your bathroom. green and red label, i think a picture of clover? it reminds me of freshly shaven necks peeking out from starched collars. holey sweaters. second-hand hush puppy shoes). standing at the row of copper mailboxes i could smell it, you. bringing it up to my room it mixed with catfood and the strong tar-shoe polish smell coming from a newly renovated vacated apartment.

it was a very nice letter. where my breath gets caught on the end of every sentence. where i want to hang it up or keep it in my pocket, but smelling that smell without you around reminds me of ghosts tagging along behind me, hooking icy fingers in the belt loops of my pressed pants.

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