Rest the phone on your broken collar bone
and explain to me again why we can't meet
in the streets of Highland.
I want to see you in your sweatpants,
I want to buy a van with you, to live in,
once we get our driver's license.
I've never met an aries whose hand I couldn't hold,
but your neck's gotten wider as the years pass
and there's the soft sound of soapy water
shaken in the bottle.
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