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he speaks
in a dead language
I try to say “I don’t understand”
it’s on the tip of my tongue

I leave a note on the counter
pencil on paper
becomes
hieroglyphs
ancient writings on rock walls

he speaks
like a seashell to my ear
but all I hear
are the waves

Like a telephone ringing in an empty room
When I crash and burn
I don't think you'll feel a thing.