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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