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May 2014
We rode home
One rubber wheel after another
Drenched to the liver in rain and alcohol.

"Right family, wrong housemate"
I said as your calloused finger
Ran long the sharp edge of my shivering jaw.

Your hands, rough, from digging holes
And coming home at 5 am
With ****** and swollen knuckles

Are the hands, that wash my hair
And hold mine, step in step
And lift me onto kitchen counters

So that our lips can greet and meet
And pull apart, only to reunite
Like us lovers, who long to never be too

Far away from one another.
One block and half, around the corner
or one street and two buildings away

We are never too far apart.
"I'm never going to die"
which is why I only called the hospital and the jail

that night you went missing for twelve hours
And left the morgue out of it.
If you're never going to die

Then I am determined to live forever
So that I can wake up everyday
To the way you look at me

Even though I hate Ska music.
Shannon McGovern
Written by
Shannon McGovern
612
     Deb Jones and Carlo C Gomez
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