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Karma.
We sat under the highway by that river you showed me the first time you made me feel beautiful. You said the water was too loud, but it was just loud enough to mask how my heart was shouting with every beat.
I sat there stoned and shaking while you kept a conversation going, and I promise I was trying to participate but every time I looked at you I got lost in the way your lips moved.
I drove twenty eight miles per hour to slow down time so I could hear you complain about what a mess my car is, and I know I really should vaccum babe, but I left my change in a jar at home and it's the only money I've got to my name.
You're right, I swear, you're always right. But I haven't left. I've got sixty miles to drive tonight so just f***ing kiss me so my mouth has got something to memorize.
You're singing along to your favorite album, and I'm thinking in poetry and the minute you stopped sucking on my neck to sing that verse, I knew the choice was made for me. I could run forever and never forget the way the river masked my heart beat, or the way my windows fogged, and my lips will always live with the memory of your smile. And I will always live with the memory of your favorite album, my messy car, and this girl that never failed to put me in my place, the right place. You're my good karma, my first poem, my last drink, my terrified heart. My love, my love, my love.
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