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Nov 2017
I'm out driving
and it's 34 degrees outside
on October 31.
All I can think about is you
to keep me warm.
Sitting in a house in the woods,
the fire place on,
wrapped in a blanket together.
But I eventually snap out of it
and i'm on Chicago Avenue
in the dead of night
in 34 degree weather
on October 31
and you will never be mine.
poems in the clouds
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poems in the clouds
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