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And the World Keeps Spinning

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the scent of grass so sharp
slicing through the blanket of sun that smells like warmth so safe

the rain will come soon it always does
and with it the heavy smell of her tears mixed in with grass and cement

it's a chorus that sings just slightly off tune
but the notes are still as riveting as they would have been

she is old and withered underneath a guise of
supple flesh and luscious lips

the tang of metal and gasoline and concrete make her senses recoil in disgust
tangling together into a sticky mess of fire and heat;

she can still remember the days when she could smell the unadulterated grass, the trees -
but even that is buried underneath the fog of time

the song had changed,
and her voice was not needed anymore.

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