N or no words in his eyes. N i tears in his mouth.
And your lips, go closed to them.
S us as roots hairs are sewn
in the bowels of the earth. S
skin or hides as
keys-some white and some black-
on the old piano. S
hands call us, challenging
trembling fingers around in search of a melody
for your body. S
us legs are cold marble,
lie inert, as slabs
the cemetery.
There are no flowers, no name.
No tears No eyes No words
No
mouth lies inert and dead.
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