gliding over the piano keys
hitting all the right combinations
the receiver drifting off helped by smoke circles
wiping the face
settling in
sitting deeper
circle the glass edge
soaked in oak mixed water
burning wood crackles
fire a visual trap
slowly sifting trough the past
regret and pride equally rememberd
the ghost visit one by one all before midnight
ding **** the old clock answers the tears
the journey been long