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I never intended

to go looking for your name

to go searching through the past

In an expired phone book

But there it stood

in black and red

Your picture next to your number

ringing out the sounds we made

from all that time we spent

in one another’s head

and one o’clock won’t come soon enough

the whiskey won’t set in

To make up excuses

for why I’m calling you again

©Entirety 2017