Counting lovers like stars. Candles
Burning in empty wine bottles.
Hair is pulled back, singing the blues
Once more, no longer amused and
The sun rises, blooms like a lily
In a rainbow sky. Still, it's silly,
This desire to be loved the way
I want to be loved. So each day
I play lovers like piano keys,
Leaving like a butterfly on a careless breeze.
One day, puled back my eyelashes will rise.
The piano will burn, disappear with a sigh.
The darkness, like me, will be silent and still.
In the sun I will rise, rise until
There is a word in the dark.
And it is ugly and stark.
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