While the bears and the squirrels and hopefully the poets of the world retreat into our dens for the winter, the voles tunnel winding paths
chivalry isn’t dead, so i walk you home in the dark past the church and the middle school. with two girls, it’s always a question.
after afternoon, again. beyond bitter blue breaths careful cars, closing clouds, clutching college-colored darkness. each early ending, feeling flat, fleeting, flimsy. getting gloomier. going home,
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