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a music, a flute perhaps
a silent song, of wind perhaps
a blue note, to escape perhaps
a fluid jazz, i sense perhaps

i follow the notes one by one
with every breath a different sound
perhaps a maudlin resonance of the past
in a rhythm of an unseen heart
over and over again
like a playback song
in the silence of an early morning
every note insanely visible
escaping through the tiny holes
sound of a simple bamboo flute
without a sound
how would it be?
to a mute audience perhaps!
making of
a beautiful music