There are 10 letters in the medical examiner’s name—Maura Isles. You counted them out when you found yourself doodling it for no reason in your notebook.
23 times you found yourself walking to the morgue when you could have called or simply waited on the report.
You started inviting her along to a scene when she could easily have waited for the evidence, 15 times in all. At the 16th, she simply assumed you would want her there, and you did though you didn’t know why. All she does is tell you what you missed and tiptoe around in those impossible shoes.
Oh, you’re all I taste, at night inside of my mouth
Oh, you run away, cause I am not what you found
Oh, you’re in my veins, and I cannot get you out