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i pressed the ivory keys of my grandmother's old piano
beneath my fingers,
brushing aged melodies loose
from the dust;
i shook the chords
like a soot filled rug
and i covered the room in a cough;
the sun danced through the window
pane in the basement
painting my hands gold,
making heavens sing
to my touches,
every out of tune piece
became stone tablets
on top of mountains.

Created: May 07, 2010

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