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Art Talk
by
Fialta
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Two kids, stuck in this city Blonde hair always stuck in our eyes Try as we might, we could not forget the fractures Though we try, though we try The summer that she died, the valley burned All that art talk in the backyard Kept us both afloat for part of a year All that work, those labored verses Kept us both awake and waiting to hear All that you said about us All that you said you wanted to hide Try as we might, we could not predict the outcome Though we tried, though we tried Plotting is a gift we both deny All that art talk in the backyard Kept us both afloat for part of a year All that work, those labored verses Kept us both awake and waiting to hear We stood in line still both, both of us pretending And we left confused at why, why they changed the ending But I guess it's fair, I guess it's fair And then one day, you said, said that you were leaving And you said to wait — I wait, waited for a season But you never came I guess it's fair I guess it's fair I guess it's fair
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