2004-10-26 || 10:45 p.m.

|| it is a tough habit to break. ||

there is that particular whistle that to this day has me spinning around on the street or rushing to the nearest window or searching out all the dark-haired ones hiding behind an opened newspaper held up at face level you recognizable only by the worn knees of your slacks and the old man shoes you bought when i was with you. airports and train stations and crowded public places, school hallways and taquerias and arcades featuring black and white photo booths. you were in all of those once, just out of view, waiting for the perfect time to reveal yourself and make my heart jump a little.

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