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Friday, 29 July 2011


A small theatre, bare stage,
a brilliant spotlight playing on a stool
behind a microphone.

On you come from the side
and I feel like the only one applauding.

You sit with your guitar and play
songs to touch an audience in the dark.

I feel those shivers and throat lumps
without embarrassment.

You take me by the hand and lead me,
and who am I to argue with such things.

I am tangled in your six strings.

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