Must have been an angel
laying on me then
And with those curtains
blowing on our closed windows
And there are no reminders
but I've known all along
I'm citing conversation
word for word with you and
Elaborations
Dotted language
Not the inevitable
Not the eye contact
That was a sell
I have a photographic
memory sometimes
They'll stay up for hours just in case
You'd understand my crisis so what
It's not a crisis at all
And we have built an empire
of sorts of free time
And I'll sell you my labor of course
It's mine