Piano keys
My lips are locked,
but not lip locked.
I lost the key,
I lost you.
Maybe
you were the key.
I don’t have anything to say,
but if I did,
I would tell you that
my grandmother asks about you,
especially when I sit at the piano,
my fingers trailing the ivory keys like maybe one could unlock something
But the piano is broken,
and the keys are flat.
I don’t have anything to say,
except that maybe what I mean
is
I just don’t have anything to say
to
you.
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