Your heart broke open inside of mine
the night on the Biltmore veranda
when cigar smoke hovered above us,
your hand slipped on the wet scotch glass, and
you told me about becoming a man the morning your dad died.
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Your heart broke open inside of mine
the night on the Biltmore veranda
when cigar smoke hovered above us,
your hand slipped on the wet scotch glass, and
you told me about becoming a man the morning your dad died.
