A tightness grips the back
of her neck
a vice-like grip
invades
her thoughts, stopping
all melody
the song is silenced.
choked by her own
perseverance
there can be
no preservation
of organic harmonies that will
be smothered
before leaving her lips but find
hope
in her fingertips
1 comment:
the song, the word, the dance...you are genius.
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