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The rain is pounding, Headache, ache so cold, so begotten. I can't remember the date anymore It's stuck between the sheets of paper in my brain, like Valencia. Sugary sweet aftertaste. Impressions in grain, Impressions of breaths in the books of our wasted conversations, Shed like flower petals. It's never this simple, never this memorable. Acting like a child in a sofa cushion fort. I miss those days. There is no way to get back to this. Given a crown of dandy lions, now a queen of Giraffe Park. Above all others in the canopy of shady trees. Weeping boughs, spreading like fingers against the blue sky and painted brick. That was the year fire reached the jungle gym And burned holes through the slides. I ran through staircases and doorframes, hiding from the seeker. It was a competition to see who could get higher on the swings. We never flew, but I always dreamed of sitting on clouds. With long strands of bleached hair blowing in the wind, She encouraged us to waving excitedly at flanked cars. Strangers smiled back at faces made of rubber, Taking shape, becoming increasingly more funny and ridiculous. We blew wishes away on pieces of shell, rubbing sand between our toes. The sunlight was our best companion, turning the skin of our elbows a deep brown. I shed sin like candy wrappers on a summer day. Nothing made me feel guilty enough, at least in front of my friends. I tried to be so brave, so defiant. I was only fooling myself. We tried to render ourselves the wisest people we knew. We had such shine.