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I miss you. I love you.sometimes. i get jealous. at other people.
he seems to care for her so much.
i wish. you would care like how you cared before.
you changed. in good ways. and in bad ways.
but. if i had the choice.
i want the old you.
i miss you.
you told me. once someone change...
they don't change back.
but i miss you.
you don't call me much now.
just late at night. but it's ok.
i learned to give you your own time.
but you don't call me just to hear my voice anymore.
you used to.
you don't tell me you miss me anymore.
you don't tell me you want to see me.
you don't tell me you love me.
i don't know how to put feelings into words.
glass in the tidegradac, croatia; summer.
it is a town climbed up from the sea:
a salt hymn, an exhalation, a brightly calcified
spray. the houses here are overgrown
as wildflowers, paths like tiny winding veins
sprung alive between them. from my balcony i watch
the sun crest slowly into afternoon,
and mothers lead their children
down stone slopes, arterial pull
to the water. by the shore,
vendors sell bottles of olive oil, salt,
sage, gathering up anything with the taste
of what mystery inhabits the air—brimming over
the glass lips, a curving kind of joy,
the whole earth, a bowl of it.
at night, my uncle drinks beer
and i drink wine. he watches
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More