The Thief

Vladimir (for some reason) made me
happy.
We went to the circus together
and watched
the sunrise.
At night I would rest my cheek
on his chest
and dream of snow.
He would read me fairy tales
and make me relish
the bare essentials.
One day I came back and he wasn't there.
(Or perhaps pieces of my skin
were missing.)
Vladimir flayed my feelings
(stole my life)
and ran to catch
the last train
to Russia.


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