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That day was an aesthetic curse,
a sad day with my best smile on;
I didn't know what was going on,
but I knew exactly
how beautiful that was.
I remember how it felt like, honey.
The sun sweetened my skin, and
I believe the burning mark
still has three layers; it's dark.
I remember the way I walked on the sand,
the way I burned my feet aching over
the black sandals that weren't even mine,
and the way I lost my hope so tender.
I remember how I collected dead corals
and tossed them into the water one-by-one.
I remember how I said I'd love to forget
but left the idea just to repeat what was done.
I remember how I grabbed a handful
of sand--the water's temperature contrast--
and threw them away as if it would
make all of the moments that I want last.
The scalding atmosphere around me and
the freezing feeling in my heart
were a fine pair of contraries.
And I admit I love opposites.
We were once a paradox.
We were once fourteen and a half
pairs of oxymora.
We were a treasure chest
too fragile to be opened
because we were perfectly
made to be damn ruined.
We are an aesthetic curse,
a perfect one 'cause we should be broken
and a flawed one 'cause we're now open,
but I knew exactly
how gorgeous my sunsets were
with you.
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