Hot Summer Nights

in the dead of the night,

the quiet becomes a roar,

as the stench of days gone by,

and love that never was,

rises from their sewer pits,

far below,

and no one ever notices,

except for the few,

who recognize the familiar scent,

for it is one they have smelled,

many times before;

hot summer nights,

were made for lonely cups

of coffee, and empty

highway lines.

.

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