in bed, by the window,
interrupted by thunder,
on the subway and through the park,
underneath the rain,
you,
i held on to like an impulse,
like a drug for a loneliness
that has no cure.
you had no answer to my question,
a simple one, really,
with no wrongs or rights,
since they rarely exist outside of our minds.
tomorrow, you will not need to answer
because i will not ask you again.
tomorrow i'll know.
we will be nowhere.
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