It’s weird I can smell you
everywhere I go
on clothes I wore before that night
the other night.
And it’s weird I think about you
like I don’t think of anyone else.
Did you eat the tofoo,
and how was your week with your kids?
You don’t have to answer or respond but if you did,
would you then like to lie down with me again,
listen to the radio,
and touch my hair maybe?
‘I don’t want an everlasting love with you,
my love. It’s nice when we touch.’
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