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Mary Elizabeth Oct 2013
People talk about
eternity
like it's a stamp
on a letter
they'll never see
again.

I hear
eternity
and all I see
is an endless black cloth
falling out and away
into more darkness.

I hear
eternity
and all I see
is an empty mirror.
A house with no lights.
A hillside in the gloom.
A bed with no you, and no I.
Just time,
stretching out where
the lights go dim,
where your warmth lingers,
but you are vanished.

— The End —