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You were a phone number on a folded piece of napkin wedged inside the bottom of my purse where the matchbooks and chewing gum wrappers fell with all the change and lint and dried, uncapped pens And I watched you float down and almost miss your mark when I emptied the bag above the trash to make room for other things that were lately. I remember you writing then putting my pen inside your jacket pocket thinking to myself, "This is it, this is really it" when it wasn't.
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Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
dark summer
You were a phone number on a folded piece of napkin wedged inside the bottom of my purse where the matchbooks and chewing gum wrappers fell with all the change and lint and dried, uncapped pens And I watched you float down and almost miss your mark when I emptied the bag above the trash to make room for other things that were lately. I remember you writing then putting my pen inside your jacket pocket thinking to myself, "This is it, this is really it" when it wasn't.
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Jan 30, 2010
Jan 30, 2010 at 1:05 PM UTC
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