Her graveled voice left with a sigh
Musket ball speed and tailed fire
For every cloud passed, her voice grew
Dimmer, each pebble a young death
If it was shame, she felt undone
Buttons melted under heat lamps
Lava filled her expecting throat
The scratch of her trigger finger
Forced dry dusted eyes to naught shut
She spoke with an itch a foot wide
But still, her sigh paved the way out
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