i have music etched on my bones
and i have a song that rolls off my tongue
my hair is a music staff, holds the notes up
lifts them to the sky
when my mind is connected to yours
the light shines as the easter dawn
and the music shouts and screams
and whispers and sighs.
the melody shifts and careens
and the tunes fit together
and file away into our brains
i cannot explain the sad art gallery
i feel reassured when i can see
that we have become a single unit
a human machine that is self-sufficient
and that i am spoken to softly.
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