The pang of regret in her eyes
Through long black hair.
A faulty disconnect, she tries
It lingers. Can't I see?
A trigger-finger poised.
It's coming after me
-- A dulcet, grating noise
I do not cower. I shift my weight.
But the light is blinding.
New half-full ideas create
What is contorted, straight and winding
My strict memory serves me incorrectly.
I have nothing else to say.
I was soaring, gliding over the sea.
I'm on the ground today.
The melody changes.
The current dies.
The light rearranges.
And so do I.
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