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Jan 2017
There he lies, the one I love
Separated from me by 6 feet of soil
And every day so many people pass by
And they look on with unperturbed eyes
Have veiled conversations about how he died
These people, the majestically impaired
Carry on with their scattering lives
But I still go there and my fingers lightly touch
The stone that now shows your name
And trace its cold permanent outline
like I used to touch your warm face
And though these tears make it hard to see
They can never block the image of your smile
And though the heavy silence presses upon my ears
I hear your faint laugh echo in the light.
Oh it's torture to be able to feel but not to be able to feel you here
So I make my way back to your stone and trace the outlines with my tears
The Flipped Word
Written by
The Flipped Word
485
   K G
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