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Creeping down a back alley
searching for something that will never come.
I have been here before,
we wore too many articles of loathing,
hoping for a day that never came.

Seven seconds of static
and then we’re back at it
acting as if ample amounts of time
is at our very whim.
Willfully wondering about wispy wishes
of a heartfelt friendship.
I am not ready for us to end this.

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