You worshipped the sun
As I did the darkness,
You with your sailboat,
Swims at frigid Spring Creek,
Obsession with tanning,
I with my Morrison mania
For leather, whiskey, and sin,
Weaving under the blurry stars
I knew were constantly falling.
By September no “us” existed,
And you said you wished
That I had died instead of her--
The last thing we agreed on.
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