Future.

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You’re planning summer,
I can taste cigarettes
in the space between your breaths.
You talk of dreams,
I am dreaming of coffee
And the way it feels to be high on weed.
You long to travel
I’m hungover on a train
Back from London and I vomit into the rain,
You’re a you and I’m a me
What can we hope for
you and me
I say drink a little, talk a while
We’ll still have a future in the morning.

While you book a dinner table
I’m tasting cigarettes in the spaces
Between your breaths.
You talk of dreams and I
dream of coffee
and how it feels to breath in weed.
You long to travel,
I sleep hungover on a train back from London;
Vomit into the rain.
You are one I am another
What can we hope for
You and me.
I say drink a little, talk a while
We’ll still have a future in the morning.





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