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COPYWRITER
Getaway Car
A Poem
It may have been my
tears,
or my foot on the gas
that led me there that night.
It may have been
that I was driving until
nothing reminded me of you.
Because when I saw the mall
where we found a dress that fit
perfectly,
I went faster.
And when I saw the theater
where we held hands
the whole show
I kept driving-
almost back in time.
And I stopped at the bakery
where you had soup
and a big smile
and so much potential.
I parked there,
walked up to that dark, wood table
and winced because
I'd never seen a table that looked quite as empty.
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