All I Ask of You
Close your eyes, and jam those old earphones in your hearing holes.
Sit down on that gate by your house.
Look up at that blue, blue sky, away from the mud beneath the fence, as brown as your eyes.
Listen to that old song they'd play at the dances in the theatre/gym by the school, when all us grade school kids would awkwardly bob to the music. You would do ridiculous dance moves because you didn't seem to care what anyone thought.
Try not to think of the old rugs they'd slap across the floor, covering wires, sticky with gum and Lord knows what, or the too-loud music, or the stench of fog machine and B.O.
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