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Dec 2011
As I lay here
My mind turns blank,
Though flooded with memories,
Only one moment
Lingers.
I could be
Remembering the smell
Of freshly packed hay
And crisp callouses on your
Fingers,
Or the way
Your hammock would swing
And I would sing;
You'd lie and say I was a
Singer.

As I lay here
Bound to one thought,
I wish I was not.
I close my eyes
And see that she smiles
The same smile
I used to have.
I open my eyes
And see it's still dark,
So I stare at nothing.

As I lay here
My breath lingers
As if it could catch up to you,
And then stay.
As I lay here
I find that my fingers
Are tapping the same rhythm
Your heart used to tap.
As I lay here
I sing without choice,
And in your voice
I hear I'm a singer.
Mary Beth Britten
Written by
Mary Beth Britten
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