Is if I could count the sand
on a thousand seashores,
I still could not hold the scores
of music’s heart in my hand.
with one word from my mouth,
I still could not ask the clouds
to dance for a lonely someone.
with bags of store-bought grain,
I still could not explain
their song through darkened windows.
of every human pace
I still could not name the place
where walking and dancing meet.
with microwaves and knives,
I still could not save the life
taken by love’s reckless need.
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