Let's use our nicknames When we apply for this next job Even though it's past our bedtime And our current paycheck Can't shut up the muse Who mewls at the dinner table Begging for a crust of bread To sate the nightly terrors. For they come, don't they, Leaving empty spaces numbers Are supposed to fill. Buddy
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I remember the hour you stole time from me and here in these late pages I try to collect back the kisses in the parking lot that erased my history next to that green F-150 when you became my future.