On doorsteps waiting for her to return lugging groceries from the Mexican market down the street. Over the same candy wrappers and concrete chunks that worried me as I pulled my bag out of my car earlier, throwing the strap over my neck thinking how someone might toss that rock right through my window. Over and over the same thoughts as she never came by as promised.
On magazines my cell buzzed letting me know that she was calling, now hours later. "I don't care. I don't care." jingle jangle. The magazines didn't care for my ringtone song so I picked up.
This is all she said.
This is all I said at first.
"I can't stop thinking about you either."
She laughed. "Um, I can't stop thinking about me either."
Gemma Hayes - Back Of My Hand (video link)
none of this is true.
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