Return to the city and find spring to be springing. Find your preferred bourbon in the bar cart, find the corners of your shoebox tighter than ever. He says, Why do you live here when you don’t have to? and you realize he’ll never understand the answer. You stop trying to make him. When I went to bed last night, I whispered hi into the bed sheets, it’s good to be home.
There’s no way to put into words a
peace like that.
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