you will hand me your dollarsni will ask if you want changenyou will hold out your expectant handni guess you thought i meant coinsnremember the times when i was youngni'd hold your hand over my heartnwhen i thought i must be dyingnso you could soothe my rapid beatni wanted you to be the one to break the newsnthat i was going to a placenfrom which no one ever returns
sparkletoes
With Love, Yours Truly
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