He pauses between keys… his fingers tender o’er the notes that write my life….they rest/ arrest me;
my black-white days, the touch that sustains…. I’m listening and every breath mine, every sigh is the song he sings as if he is the rhythm/ the beat of my rhyme
no he refrains from letting me go/ go to my own translations of words/ of lyrics and life
his chord unbreaks wakes pursues like a Linger, it repeats/repeats his lines…
He pauses between keys… his fingers tender o’er the notes that write my life….they rest/ arrest me, just in time.
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