Not so unlike Gina.
Browner hair, ambition,
a smile that faded the summer.
Just like last June,
only now it's July
and things are moving faster.
It was "I Love You"
pushed between adoption
and cold fatherly stares
from the back of the room.
She always had a way of surprising,
photogenic poses, and the smell
of mountains laced in her hair.
I'll never forget the cold air
in the back of a Texas parking lot.
Her warm hands as she looked
into my eyes for the last time.
I'm sorry I didn't write back.
All I could think of was late
night water parks, blond haired
girls and how some things never change.
June to July.
August to October.
I wish I could have been
different. Maybe then I could
finally write back.
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