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Written a long time ago for my high school sweetheart
Fourteenth Floor
Oct 10, 1987


She was a blonde
from the fourteenth floor
who took my hand
and walked me away
from the fire.

Fourteenth floor,
she took me there,
where we stood on the balcony
and watched the summer leave.

She loved me, she said
on the fourteenth floor,
and she cried and asked me
if I liked her body
and I told her
that I liked her mind.

And with her eyes,
she touched me
and she took me down
as the sun bled slowly onto the clouds
in the dying of the summer
on the fourteenth floor.
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