Orchestra

Her name was the only word that
Rang in your head, repeating itself until even
Eternity gave up and stopped progressing, and
Her name sounded like all the times the
Rain fell on your fingertips and drenched your
Oversized trench-coat, and it was like all the
Orchestras in the world had synchronised their
Trombones and trumpets, only to produce a few
Syllables of symphony, and it sounded like all the
Times the snow fell softly on your yard, slowly,
Until the green was covered completely in ivory.

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