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Jun 2021
I can almost touch it.
It feels so close.
The tune conjures it.
The smell of green and new.
Memories of what was.
Close to me.
Never lost, never old, never told.
Then, I catch the glance.
I see the real.
Content myself with what is.
Let go what was.
So quickly lost.
Yet seems so close.
Is closed to me.
Rebecca
Written by
Rebecca  59/F/Virginia
(59/F/Virginia)   
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