it was late, I was tired,
you were bored, i was restless,
The tall and the fat of it,
the fiction behind the truth
The things we want so much to believe
that it's almost real
almost more beautiful than I could bare
but if you bear with me
maybe
everything is,
if not all right, at least halfway here
as if God himself could change
For this thing called time,
or for what you call good.
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