White Things
Friday, February 10, 2012
Fallen feathers and
lace like wings of a moth danced
on the gaps of the piano keys as
snow dissolved outside like seafoam
like foggy breath on a window on a cold day
The ivory keys felt ice cold and lonely
for they haven't been touched
in an awful long while.
The ghostly face of the walls of the room
stared back , pretending to give the lonely keys company
but even lies could be white.
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