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i can hold my alcohol, i can hold my feelings, i can't hold you. |
it was concealed then and it is concealed now seeking refuge on a different balcony than the one we hid in above a crowd of three hundred flat plastic shoes clacking in the dark we came out of the chimney and i reached for your hand - it had to be an act i can't see your eyes but i can see your soul it was dark then too hot chocolate and spray paint saturday mornings and sewing needles you carried me on your back through places we shouldn't have been the boy's washroom after hours you shared your twix bar and you shared your mind i didn't think about it - not about the backseat not about the golden retriever not about the jack of spades the end of the era came under the christmas lights in august a mickey in one hand and car keys in the other but that was not the worst thing you told me to run i wanted to stay i wanted you to beg me to stay blowing through the intersection - but we continued to pretend there was never anything there and the morning before the flight my suppression of you came up with the vodka burning and searing the thief got away and you did too five hundred and sixty-five dollars seven hundred and thirty-two days gone with the ocean of you. |