the blues singer she
the blues singer she the
hologram on the air in
the tiny hours there where
my tears hang to dry while
I slide back listening
sobbing as
her red lips place
a blue kiss upon me
silently
falling silently
silently
the blues singer she a
song upon a memory
bled upon an ache
for no sense can I make
of why she sings to me
this way so late in the day
in a way that I can touch
nothing more outside of
the silence in her voice
holding me
holding me
holding me
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