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In the summer camp, down by the hilli'll get some time to thinklaying down on the pier, throwing stones to the lakeone stone for everythingthat i really misslike my dog, and the crows, and the smell of hereand i'll keep a very special pile ofheavy and black and polished and weird and terrifying stonesfor the nights when i missed you(and even when i could still see you)...for the sweets things you said that i don't want toknow if they're truefor you wearing my shirts and riding your bikes in awarm nightfor when we didn't even say goodbyefor when i was stuck in the airport with amazinglightnings keeping the plane to the ground(and i wouldn't even call you)for the anger and the pain that we softly builtfor the anger and the pain that we tenderly builtfor the anger and the pain that we hug-ly built |