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by
Eliot
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DM
Poems
Mar 2014
-1-
Oh darling.
When was it decided
That I get no decisions
For myself.
For myself.
For myself.
Your piano fingers creep slowly still
Drag across my wood skin,
Pulling up ridges and ripples
As you play.
For you
I let your ghost drip tears on me still
Staining my leather heart.
Written by
DM
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