If only
Life could be wound
And unwound
Like the key beneath
The little black box
That shone, polished, mirrored,
Making music
Making the tiny plastic ballerinas
Dance to its tune.
Life could be wound
And unwound
Like the key beneath
The little black box
That shone, polished, mirrored,
Making music
Making the tiny plastic ballerinas
Dance to its tune.
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