We’ll tell them what they want to hear with our cheeks against the frosted glass of the back door, looking out at all the blurry cars. The phone call will be over in an instant, and any doubts left on the wire will be eaten by the waves and waves of crows that like to perch there while they talk shit in their laid-back kind of language.
With the whole day free, we can walk around the older parts and places marked with empty bottles everywhere, and we can add in both of our shares in the meantime. We can use the record player left out on the sidewalk, in the sun, to play whatever’s in the box we found behind it in the shade left out for anyone. We’ll talk about the fake blondes and their sunglasses obsessed with retro clothing that looks like something I’ve been wearing just by accident.
The day will wrap up cloudy, and the crowded rooms will clear, and all those loose with too much time will slink away back home to watch a picture of a picture of a picture. However, you and I will still be outside when it’s raining
ignoring every reason telling us
to run.
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