by Nate Borofsky

Viola, I swear I miss you.
You were the wisest girl I knew.
Like when you told me of Katrina,
How she rose and cried, "Hallelujah."
Viola, Viola.

I once heard Chester speak.
He said he saw you dancing on the stage.
He told me that, despite your years,
Your style had not changed with age.
I drowned myself tonight in sangria
Made with sliced up fruit and cheap marsala.
Viola, Viola.

I tried to remember a dream I had with you.
We were trying to swim across the ocean in the black of night.
There were lightning storms outside of Panama
Before we reached the shores of Angola.
Viola, Viola.

Viola, I swear I miss you.

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