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Jazz Music poetry Short Stories Uncategorized Urban Legends writing

don’t look down

we were in august covered pittsburgh
full of love
laughter
and the finest kentucky wine and cheese
feet weary from exploring a city
with bridges leading to andy warhol
and an endless somewhere

they were the whitest hotel sheets
i’ve every made love on

neither one of us aware of the baby
it was too soon to even suppose
about careless nights the month before

but when he placed his bloody hand
on my hair draped pillow
he began to scream
oh god baby
oh god
oh god
that color red
i didn’t know
i didn’t know
i didn’t know
baby
don’t look down
don’t touch your nightgown
come here

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