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We almost kissed and then I saw his car drive by Saw carbon copies of your model on the highway home too Maybe it’s just a London dispersion force

I like to lick the salted rim of grief over and over again Sometimes it’s better when my lips are cut from kissing you piano in the background playing the lullabies of our love affair

I drew the halogenation of benzene on your car The steric hindrance of him still on my mind His spatial arrangement preventing you from approaching my reactive site