Stays for a day or two
We talk about rue
Over supper we shoot the shit
Come to no conclusions about you
The things we used to do
We stay up late for the laughter
While she straightens the stars
I clear the dishes
Freed from the soul’s confusions
Then comes the tender moment
When she confesses her incompleteness
Crying together in my arms
Still just a skinny brown girl
With so much love to make
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