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Trent Howe Jul 2020
I could drive miles with white eyes
And be sure I would find you
It wasn’t a matter of how
Just if I was still the one behind the wheel

When I can’t afford gas
I use fumes
If I couldn’t buy you flowers
I would sing of your likeness to marigolds
And daffodils
And your bonding grip in the rain
And feeling your smile widen as we kiss
My love

I was never one for people as I was for you.

— The End —