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We spent the summer in warm strangers arms, running through her town, flirting with college boys home for the summer, lieing about our age. She sat in the park smoking anything. Drinking anything. Winking when she would leave with one of them to "get personal." I always had to slyly push their hands away from my breasts, I couldn't go that far when I had a boyfriend.

I spent the summer in his basement, our sweaty bodies entwined, her voice always in my head laughing at me for being such a prude, our hands wandering...We ate white pizza and watched Disney movies-the darkest hickies always came during the animated films.
I thought it was twisted but I never said anything.

I felt immortal. Nothing could hurt me, and I had no boundaries.

We spun in the park, as the ridiculously tall half naked dark skinned boys played basketball. We held hands and spun until I thought I would throw up, then we laid in the grass, holding hands, giggling, living. I felt more alive than I had in years, but I didn't know this girl. This skinny girl with the hipbones that bruised, the straightened blonde hair and thickly rimmed eyes with dark-kohl eyeliner and sparkled from a bottle from the renaissance fair, fruity lipgloss and bruised neck. Cigarettes in her purse and hoop earrings dangling low from her ears. Who was she, this it girl?

I felt immortal, alive, invinsible, beautiful. I felt out of control, wild, scared, alone, distant.


For All The Things You Remember

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