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I hear it
I hear you chasing her
- she has more and more skirts (as time goes by)
she brings you to tears more and more often
- your stinging peer
I hear you trying to catch her
and turn childhood bruises into little onions -

I envy you -
I can't to thrust her in piano:
but I let my nails grow like an animal -
maybe my fingertips get pregnant with some little melody

(I felt like thoughts were playing through my palm
but it's stubbornness that does push-ups on the knuckles)