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I’m not thumbing for a lift
I’m just happy to be here.
Watching the road pass
Carrying nothing but traffic.

My feet digging into gravel
Teeth looking for purchase
On this rock face. You look
Unsure, I keep this love letter

Crumpled in my pocket.
Don’t worry about the ink
Smearing and losing focus
I remember the words

That I scribbled down
While I was drunk. Out
Of town, smoking wet
Cigarettes with cheap

Lighters still running
Out of gas. The smoke
Still creating backdrops
On this mist strewn road.

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