most of it washed away
in a dry wave of consciousness
there were a few drops
left near the corners of her bottom lip
not enough for her to remember
how it tasted
but enough to not forget
tasting it
an anthem for ghosts
ballad for a winter's breath
a song falling toward
the most unknown parts of the abyss
the most unknown parts of the abyss
a place that might as well
never existed
heartfelt echoes of nothing
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