Rockdannabee

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Rockdannabee came to the windowsill quietly, her
cup of coffee spilt in her hair

And, like trice before, she sang-
though being her tune was out of key
reminded me of the housekeeper.
Feverishly, she in the bedroom kept jewelry
with montagues of perspiration
Alas at night when it was
at the stories’ ending goodbyes,
Rockdannabee gave in and struggled to paint
her cries




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