Thursday, February 4, 2010

a roomless door

I walked past a house
I walked past a house I heard weeping
I walked past my father's house I heard weeping
It sounded like a roomless door, a piano's 89th key
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1 comment:

Victoria Thorne said...

gasp

(you have found, again, that which is sublime)

February 9, 2010 at 6:26 PM

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