Heart beating in a teardrop
Not my own
The volume of a song
Just loud enough to hear
Cuts through the silence
The unnecessary context
Tears the soul to pieces
Life to be continued
In the creases and forgotten cracks
Newspaper folded and hiding
Under empty plates
Shadows dwell and leave
Flat screen throws light
Across the room
The moment waiting
For the explanation
Of its own return
And gets none



Leigh-Anne Tyson


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