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- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The last drop fell from the spout
Poem Info
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The last drop fell from the spout
Crashing into the sink
Like a struck cymbal
The absence of sound that followed
Was louder than a thunderstorm
Her voice wasn’t there to fill the gaps
And my own only echoed before disappearing
This was how it was now
All that remained of the symphony that was us
Were these scattered sounds of noise
Without rhythm or focus
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