Bleeding Ink 1,519

There’s a poem

That’s inbetween

The lines


It’s there

When she plays piano

Soft and low


And the world is burning down

And there’s all of this echo in the background

But she slows it down

And reminds me

There’s still gentle ways of touching things

There’s still good memory

There’s still lines between words

Between minutes

Between years

With miles left to go

For good memory

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