Triangulate on northern skies
pinned positions. Drawing lines
until the 106 meets up with the 45
On a hot night,
I might keep this smile alive
long enough to trace the alleys,
salt the streets with summer sighs
It was night time
And the sky took a bite--
drank our blood, we drained our pints
and we set the world to rights
Switched to whiskey--
same color as your eyes.
You said mine looked sad, but you told me they were nice
Now I want you to know I once had something to say
on the tip of my tongue
but it's late and I have aged.
So get walking...
And I guess I'll do the same.
Meet up in the middle, in the Fall, some other day.
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