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Little Bit o Writing


Favor

We both know that you know
That I know what was taken
All those mornings I drove
You singing in the back seat
Sun burning sleepy eyes, squeezing
Shut.
Shut to fingers slowly, ever
So slowly sliding the zipper
Left to right. Finding folded
Bills. Taking them as your
Own. Right to left this time
Jeweled fingers back on your own lap
You kept singing
And I kept driving

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