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and I would think of you
in my home, as if you belonged.
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what does it mean to be lonely?it feels like this:every time you're home yet i'm alone.so i sit by the window,coaxing smoke,out of dim lit cigarettes...
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and maybe we would have been good for each other
had we waited to grow into our own bones
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I find you, my soul, there
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'i think about the curve of the back of your head/as it connects to your neck.'
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your songs are not poetic;
but they're catchy,
and they catch me
at the hook.
would it be okay,
if i danced the night through
along with you?
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Because you are home.
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there is a warmth in my mind where you live.
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I always think of my memories like this:without sound, just lips moving,playing on repeat, like a silent filmwith a few glitches.
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'I will sit here and wait'
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