When you had your tattoos removed you folded them neatly and left them with me. I kept them in a box with all the other shit you gave me, and when I ended it I mailed everything back to you, returning whatever took up space but might hold some meaning for you, cut my hair and included that too, knowing how much you liked it — I heard you gave it to her, said you wanted to get her something special, and when she wears my hair as extensions you tell her she’s never looked better.
