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and the girl on the bicycle gave the cafe boy a flower with a small piece of paper around the stem. and i still don't know much about flowers, but it looked blue and drooping as if to say, that's me sometimes when your not looking and when she sped past me i wanted to grab the wheel feel the rubber blurry in my palm let smoke travel up my wrist and say i am probably for you but my hands were slow even then; the pavement cracked, the city continued, and it just kept getting worse
yvonne prinz
