Lemon in my throat

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The black note on your piano,
you touch me now and then,
and lemon in my throat, when I hear
you’re playing her again.
Pushed aside, out of your mind,
to make room for someone new,
suddenly I find myself
second in the queue.
I’m the yellow in your rainbow,
pale against her crimson red.
Feeling blue, knowing you
already
filled my side of the bed.

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