He came from Florida, though I forgot which part as soon as he said it. Definitely not Miami. His skin was a fierce pink and he wore a turquoise Marlins baseball cap on backwards, a loose-fitting tank top, and board shorts. Pudgy, thirty-something, and reeking of booze. Something about the guy I liked. He had a big drunk laugh and seemed unstable in a refreshing way.
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Fascinating. What more can I say?
Absolutely wonderful! My poem resonates with your testimony. http://www.panoramajournal.org/firsts-who-am-i/
Lovely poem, Bashir, thank you! It does seem we’ve struck a similar chord.