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In a wash of white noise 

I hear crickets 

Strumming a long tone 

To accompany the click of your finger’s keys 

You sat beside me 

With orange light streaming 

As flight attendants moved back and forth

I reached out to touch your hand 

Encapsulating mine 

In your warmth cold 

How many days can we have like this 

Listening to silence 

How many days can we have like this

Mattie Grace Levy

I'm a black woman, a classically trained oboist, a self-taught composer, and an introspective poet trying to comprehend my thoughts.

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