forever |
The metal bands click in place, locking us in the car.
Little patches of worn silver peep out from their greasy bed
on the catch. I stare at them. I want to ask you if you
think that the grease holds the silver or if the silver
holds the grease. Suddenly the question of this band's
existence seems terribly important. I nod. Hold onto the edge of your denim cut offs, fingering the fraying cotton. Maybe, like me, they want to hold onto this forever. |
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