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Oct 2015
walking through memories
- a misty park of fallen leaves

hot-fingered hands
in each other's pockets
welcoming and deep
as promises whispered
promises to keep

the air is full
of buzzing thoughts
lit up by cold eyes
eyes the colour
of the coming frost
- we keep close
like little children lost

hiding footprints
in the clouds
raining breaths
on crinkly shrouds
Ruzica Matic
Written by
Ruzica Matic  37/F/Serbia
(37/F/Serbia)   
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