April 23/365 Jim

We drove to Rehoboth on a grim day in April, listening to Springsteen the entire way. Jim’s jawline was so sharp, I ran a finger along it from ear to chin. That was all. We were no longer lovers, you see, and this was our last day, watching waves foam over the dead beach. The drinking came later.

5 thoughts on “April 23/365 Jim

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