I know that someday you’ll be sleeping, darling, likely dreaming off the pain. I hope you’ll hear me in the streetlight’s humming, softly breathing out your name. I know that even with the seams stitched tightly, darling, scars will remain. I say we scrape them from each other, darling, and let them wash off in the rain. And when they run into the river, oh no, let the water not complain. I swear that, even with the distance slowly wearing at your name, your hands still catch the light the right way, and our hearts still beat the same.
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