"Just so you know, I'm straight. Totally straight. As an arrow." Her voice held a smile. "So am I"

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Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black And the dark street winds and bends. Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow, And watch where the chalk-white arrows go To the place where the sidewalk ends.

— Shel Silverstein