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Oct 2015
I was probably halfway through my lunch
when you told me you were leaving.
I laughed, then.
All the times I read aloud to you the poems
made of words that had blossomed
from my eager hands still tingling
from the memory of your skin.
I laughed, then.

It took effort to swallow my scalding microwaved food,
yet the only things burning
were my eyes and your words.
gypsyheart
Written by
gypsyheart
307
     --- and Evangeline Rose
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