"As we go through life we gradually discover who we are, but the more we discover, the more we lose ourselves."
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My high school boyfriend's mom's banana bread with the crunchy sugar bottom that I've never been able to recreate
reblog this and tag with a food you no longer have access to (closed restaurant, state you moved away from, ex’s mom’s cooking, etc) that will haunt you until your dying day, mine are the spicy chicken sandwich on the employee menu at the fine dining restaurant I was a prep cook at, and the onion bagel from the kosher place down the street from my house when I lived in the city
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“Dear Friend: I have nearly died three times since morning”
By Alex Dimitrov
For a long time I would not go to bed.
You’ll remember those months and the sky
like the tip of a finger dipped in wax.
Every time I felt pleasure I held my breath—
why did you write over that line in your letter?
The snow made me forget how hot the blood is.
How another person can step into a room,
as if out of a painting,
and offer me a life.
Can you feel which part of your body this poem goes to?
Your fingers or teeth,
the top of your chest—
does it touch your face?
I was thinking we could see each other again.
At night, with our masks on,
so we know exactly who to look for.
I’ll read you this fragment of Proust
before the next snowfall, so neither us of will forget …
the better part of our memory exists outside us,
in a blatter of rain, in the smell of an unaired room ...
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And yes, I loved you so much that it ended
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I know I'm an idiot for waiting for you, because I know you won't come.
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Nikki Giovanni, The Collected Poetry, 1968-1998
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