In the wrong neighborhood
during the early hours of the day
newspaper deliverymen are coming out as
dancers and bouncers are heading home.

In a hotel that always has a Vacancy sign,
up on the second floor, near the stairs
we are
lying across a bed that was never slept in,

in the dim light of tired red neon
she rolls over to whisper something in my ear

I pull her close,
not hearing a single word












title from Modest Mouse- gravity rides everything   


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