She was like a lost horse
An only child, in every sense
Save for her parent’s fluff ball of a dog
And she was a romantic at heart

She’d been to an all-girl’s school most of her life, and had emerged knowing very little about men
Pictures of men littered her walls like threads of a mystery in a detective’s office, like she was building an identikit file of a person.

I don’t understand what she saw in me
I think she still sees it, which is very strange.


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