“At the lake last month you said you never stopped thinking about me. Well, I never stopped thinking about you.” She turns around to see my face. “I got the tattoo to carry that summer with me. I put my memories of you into it. I thought if I couldn’t carry them in my heart, I could carry them on my body. Outside, so they wouldn’t hurt as much.”
All I can do is blink at her. On her skin, etched in black ink, is a tiny sparrow.
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