She dances in her skivies around the kitchen
Pall mall dangling from her wrinkled lips
Some mornings she wakes up lost
And other mornings she doesn’t care who she is
Or if her husband’s imaginary lover is on the couch
Or if the doll in her hands that she loves with her whole heart
Will never blink and hug her back
Sometimes when the memory goes
It takes the pain with it
And she’s free to dance the day away
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