by Dan Sicoli
Artist: Radcliffe Bailey
is how it was after the dance floor
is memory
the comma of her black dress
the comet above foretelling
the sputters were
acts of regression in the front seat
knowing the song too well
a lyric trips
when she untied me
a bird remained in hand
the price to crow
too steep to imagine
when the land turned
to liquid before our eyes
and the sun died
in a quiet sky
Dream Noir 
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