Sugar

Secretly, my heart was hopeful —

I dreamed of visits to distant museums with you,

And midsummer evenings together;

Kisses and beautiful rosy babies

Driving us to madness with their

Impatient cries —

A collision of surrealism and monotony

.

In the end,

I’m still an ingénue. Right now, alone in bed,

I think of the misty hopes I had.

Your definitions of who you thought I were

Are based on my abnormally

Fast heartbeat

.

You’ve judged me wrong, sugar

.

ML

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