Poetry

Memories

I loved a Nina once,
or I should say,
I crushed on a Nina once,
and my inexperienced teenage heart
turned it into something like love

My young valves
didn’t understand rhythm
or syncopation,
but they were full
and they pumped so much feeling
that I still hold a bit of it today

When I read the name Nina
I remember her,
the Nina I adored,
and I think
Her music still plays yet

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