I know we are children
who refuse to wrinkle despite bad backs and grey hair and neither of us able to sleep properly because every time our keys go walkabout our cellphones fail to appear before a court of overturned couch cushions and redistributed table pollution one of us will ask the other have you checked your butthole? And the other will grumble and stare like a barely crackable pistachio shell before turning their back and checking jacket pockets that the lost necessities won't be located in this time either
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