The Music Room


No more music for me.
about her.
No, Master.

I will never come
no seizure,
He couldn’t do it.

I’ve brought your syrup.
Some muchkunda petals.
Blood in my veins.

And the jewels?
A written invitation.
Drawn into a whirlpooI.

The candles are consumed,
The pretty garden has been
In vain, in vain.

Father is very sick.
Everything has been swept away.
In the music room.

that dance called
I spent aImost 20 years

You are the son of
on a silver plate

Mother wrote.
He failed.
under deep water.

Lord. It’s dawn.
It’s perfumed.
in your hands.


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