nose on the glass hours pass in the back

of the only store still open in the city


white flecks of light from the fish flashing by

and you answer with your mouth hung open 'pretty'

there's no reason to be scared

i know that you're always a little scared

and here you count again tonight

counting all the guts you've left inside

it couldn't change a thing

but i like remembering

that holy scene in lonely new orleans

you so pretty next to me

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