Is life unisex, like an indie band
you vaguely remember from a film
watched with the girl next door—
the quiet one, painting swimming pools
full of sea wasps and talking
about second choices, whom you admired
for her freckles and occasional mischief,
and who was mostly indifferent,
though casually cruel—your only
intended girlfriend?

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More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com