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The first thing he ever said to me was "I like the way you eat your cake." We sat across the table from each other while I ate cake and he drank a glass of red wine with her—but flirted with me instead. Later, he found an excuse to lay his head in my lap, and I went home with the scent of his aftershave on my shirt.
The cake was lemon with raspberry jam between the layers. Of events of that night, I remember it—and his comment—most vividly.
champagne-colored wedding dress
how quickly they move,
these clouds like a river