Jen

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Our eyes meet for a stopped breath, and we hold, something passing between us, something that sneaks inside my soul and rots it from the inside out. I’ve lost her. No more piano chords to mend my restless heart. No more rooftops, hand-holding, or catnaps beneath her walnut tree. No more comfort. No more music. In this moment, it’s clear—she’ll never sing to me again.
Dream On
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