the day after you left i
saw a young girl on my walk to work
it was cold
she looked like a teenage you
i could see her breath in the air
she avoided eye contact
i held back tears as she passed
a wake of perfume
flowers, cinnamon
wet
trail behind her, trail behind her
i closed my eyes, deep breath
held the scent in my lungs, walked with my eyes still shut until i got scared
how old are you
eighteen
how do i know this isn't a fake id
who gets a fake id that says they're eighteen
no officer
no officer
yes officer
no
one call but you didn't answer
now you live in a field of ripe dandelions and golden rays of sunshine
and a penthouse pet lens smeared with vaseline
and bad mobile reception
after you left i
: EVERY MOMENT IS LOVELY, YES :
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2 x like a billion = how much I love you:
tx and i don't mean texas
mmm, ty's right and cinnamon's a killer.
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