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Date: 2011-02-03 04:27 am (UTC)Remember that time in New York
when we pretended we were spies in East Berlin?
The café was dark, needing only smoke for ambience,
and there was German Chocolate Cake on the menu.
(What we lacked in authenticity, we made up for in enthusiasm.)
I loved you then as I never had before.
Makes me want to live this poem.