DEAD FLIES

DEAD FLIES   His eyes are two dead flies on the windowsill of my college dorm room. They refuse to go away. Tiny little gnats, black and crunched into balls, sad. That’s what he was, and that’s what I was, and that’s what the dead flies are, or were as they were dying I guess, there have been many dead flies because I keep brushing them into the trash and they keep dying all in the same spot. That’s how I replay the time we spent together, over and over in the same spot, and I think I was...

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