before.

I am the girl you met once, the one with the slightly crooked nose. The one you fell in love with because of her laugh. The girl you met once that had somewhat curly dark brown hair and full slightly chapped lips. She didn't seem to mind much that you smelled of weeks traveling by train in late August. Nor did she mind when you placed your foul smelling arm around her thin, slightly tan, exposed neck. She laughed when you did this, proudly blushing. She seemed to know she'd never see you again, and yet, didn't seem to mind. That girl you met that when you walked into her back porch, you saw her sitting there, sucking down a cigarette, blowing smoke rings and breaking them with her outstretched pinky finger.