xxviii

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his car was yellow

and the engine was loud.

it sputtered and stopped

but it made us laugh.

we made it about twenty miles

until it started acting up

and we had to take it to a shop.

we passed the time

in a café,

much different from the one

back home.

i sketched

while we shared stories

and drank coffee.

by night fall, the car was

up and ready to go,

but we were both tired,

so we decided a nights rest

in this foreign town was

just what we needed.

your brother had his

quirks.

he said you know

too often and

he was obsessed with

taking pictures.

and as the night crept on

and he drifted off on the sofa

i turned over in the bed

and pressed my face into the pillow.

because i had glanced back at

my aimless sketches,

and they were all of you.

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