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There, in the places we forgot to put roads
are the ones who aren't born
who might have dug a hole in their backyards
or made a young girl cry into rubble of bedsheets
because he went to war
or she didn't go to class that day
or because she did

Now they sleep where they cook
and they stay in one place
in a clearing
in the woods
As we drive back because we forgot our keys
and let the phone ring because we know who it is
they live with each other without learning their names