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February 14, 2015
Will you thumb through the pictures when I am gone?
Will my face, made careworn and tired, be restored in your mind's eye? I cannot know what it was you ever saw in me. I cannot understand how you could know that when I said those things all people say to one another, almost without thinking, that I would really mean them. Sippican Cottage: The Festival of the Kiss
Posted by gerardvanderleun at February 14, 2015 9:51 PM. This is an entry on the sideblog of American Digest: Check it out.
Your Say
Great. Now sitting crying like a fool.
Posted by: pbird ![[TypeKey Profile Page]](http://americandigest.org/sidelines/nav-commenters.gif)
at February 15, 2015 8:32 AM