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the places they go long after midnight
long after midnight
i chase after my thoughts
they’re running off again
(such traitors)
towards you
(of course)
and your butterfly fingers
brushing
as you rush by
just a face in a crowd
(just like mine)
but my heart goes doki
dokidokidokidoki
our star-crossed meeting
goes by
like a whistling train
(it’s a wreck)
romeo and juliet
turn out to be
i’msorryareyouokay
but your butterfly fingers
take mine
(they’re cold but i certainly haven’t noticed)
and i ask you to repeat yourself
onetwothree times
(you stuttered the first two)
before i tell you my name
and i need to repeat it
onetwothree times
just to get yours
(pretty as it is)
out of my
(traitorous)
runningoffagain thoughts
long after midnight
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