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A warm wet circle on my cheek,
all that remains of your presence.
In a cold grey room so empty,
that no longer holds your essence.
My skin and bones have turned to dust,
a heart dripping to pools so dry.
The fibres of being are unbound,
as you walk away and say goodbye.
© Pagan Paul (23/07/17)
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Just trying to recall what its like to have a love to lose.
PPx
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