sticky summer memories: 2 am. we’re watching ever after on your tiny tv beneath our pillow fort. the curls you hairsprayed linger like the smell of baked cookies after they’ve already been eaten. you cuddle beside me, limbs between limbs, and we call it friendship. you are the lost princess and i am the girl you buy apples from at the market. i hope you won’t forget me, but i know you will.
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