Musical Memory

All life is a harmony
that slides–
from one day into the next
it glides;

I have found my own to be
quite irregular,
and nothing at all could tie me
all together.

(All my warmest sighing;
my aggregate darkness trying…)

You
are the melody that my soul always
sang,
but I didn’t have time
to write you down
before
you floated away,
again.

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