You caught me leaving the hostel room we shared in detroit, said you were from fort lauderdale, but in town for a week visiting your family. You asked if the coffee was any good. Showed me poems by an author I've already forgotten, found at john k king used books. I was going back to grand rapids after catching some music the night before. I stood staring up at you in the top bunk, not knowing what to say, not wanting to leave. Your hair was long, your eyes were kind. What's that poem again?
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