Do you know how weird it is to fall asleep and imagine the contours of your face? To see where each line and cut and scab were, vividly on your body. And to be sure that they were there? I draw out perfect replicas in my brain and imagine out the shirts you’ve worn, the way your hair stood or curled or screwed up. I hear the voice that belonged to the same shadow. I hear your laughter and the phrases you repeat. I remembered more than I thought I would.

I thought I forgot.

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