“Morning, his place
Burnt toast, Sunday
You keep his shirt
He keeps his word
And for once you let go
Of your fears and your ghosts
One step, not much
But it said enough
You kiss on sidewalks
You fight then you talk
One night he wakes
Strange look on his face
Pauses, then says.
"You're my best friend."
And you knew what it was
He is in love.”

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