If I had to organize my evening thoughts
they'd center around the
missing 'o' key on my keyboard, and
the way, just now
I sat down and played the piano in the dark and
I could have sworn it was only ten minutes,
but when I looked at the clock, it'd been
nearly an hour.
And I'd linger for a while on--
good lord, has it always been so easy to lose track of which pulse is my own?
Because I have been
oh, I have been.
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