she left a note / on the terracotta tile / of my front step / and she has said / that she is no poet / but i find myself marveling at the way / she can make goodbye / sound like my fault
she left a note / on the terracotta tile / of my front step / and she has said / that she is no poet / but i find myself marveling at the way / she can make goodbye / sound like my fault
Perfectly Imperfect Me 