A Vague Memory
Courtney,
you were always beautiful
in yer cocaine haze.
I remember the night we spent
together trading beers
and telling stories
or explaining theories.
I don't even remember
how we ended up there.
You were always so tough
emancipated and on yer own
at the age of sixteen.
And I was always in awe
because you floated on air
even with those
monkeys on yer back,
weighing you down.
Courtney,
where did you run to?
And do you remember that night
we spent laying,
playing in yer hair?
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