Guitar

Perhaps in place of you

I’ve found the guitar, not the same, not as lovely

but it’s the only thing i love now

each sustained note i pluck, a sustained cry out for you

It’s lovely curve a substitute for the warmth of your body,

I hug in place of you—and gently caress its strings,

up and down along its neck,

from E to e, as I would do to your hair

It’s not the same, but it’s the only thing that

distracts me from the pain now

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