2.13.2015

I have a pianist’s hands – long fingers – straight wrists – and a stretch that spans two notes above the octave

a seer once held my hand and foretold three consuming loves, and none would remain by my side –

after this last, I consider myself consumed –

funny how the life line moves on strong and unbroken – a pity

if there were a split, I might just jump the tracks and begin again elsewhere

with pianist’s hands – as yet unconsumed

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