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why did you touch my shoulder that sunday morning?
why did you touch my shoulder that sunday morning?
the rink was a static disco, sparkling electric
we weren’t looking at each other
and anyway, you hadn’t spoken to me in weeks
if i fell, i would expect you to turn away
label me as desperate, maybe just a mailbox for pity
i was right. you left as soon as i saw you
why did you touch my shoulder that sunday morning?
i used to binge this one show all day
and pretend you were the love interest
never thinking it would happen in real life
when your hand brushed my arm, deja vu hit
little canary-yellow lightning bolts
that flew in bursts out of your fingertips
why did you touch my shoulder that sunday morning?
it’s cruel of you to give me false hope
painting your face on the inside walls of my soul
and i thought you didn’t want to live in my mind anymore
it’s stupid to think your home is really in my arms
so stick to your words and keep away
unless, just maybe, you truly wanted to stay
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