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Untitled #19
You are going to come back.
The house will smell of banana bread
(that was always your favorite)
And I will light the candles you bought for me.
You will kiss me gently
And we will never speak above a whisper.

I will learn to be quiet again.
I’ve been getting loud
And you always liked me softer.

You are going to come back.
You are going to.
You are going.
Come back.


© lindsey