She’s Death (day 2529)

She’s got magic in her hands
And death between her lips
She sings every night a song
That makes me miss my ship
I don’t think I’ll ever send away
The blanket I had specially made
For every day as I sit here
I wish I’d found another lover
Who’d play to me sad sad songs
I could write down to remember
And out I’d go, apart from death
Reaching madly for sunlight.

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