She has a beautiful voice

The woman speaking of time

With unbearable sweetness

In her breath

You know she knows too much

Of the price time makes us pay

Laid out on the bar

Crumpled note after note

Redolent of beer and smoke and age

I can replay her and she sings again

The same treasury of price and payment

The music pushing at me, tweaking my mind

The woman breathing in my ear

I know she’s dead

Know that her mouth will no longer

Open to reveal that trembling

Of small muscles, the twitching

Of ligaments that somehow, with

A mind of gold behind it,

Creates strange alchemy

 

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