And you will go where crows go
I mean: Can you forgive yourself / all
My presence has become a part of his raking. I know
I travel with gasoline ghosts down all those haunted
drinking glasses of wine
like half-developed photographs
and you know where that's at.
I talked a good hello
for a moment or two like an invisible
morning of my God-damn life.
At the guess of a simple hello
You have your friends.
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