one evening and one morning

i'm crying into skype, and it's crying right back at me. the fuzzy picture of myself, going still and then blurring. i can't help but think i look beautiful, my long hair and my wet eyelashes. i'm watching my face fall. then i fell asleep reading a love story.
and this morning i painted my nails over breakfast. a dark red, strangely enough. in between bites of toast and coffee. he told me once, how he liked the shiny red colour against my pink skin, how he liked to watch. my eyes feel tired.

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