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Porter Station, 12:25 AM

The door began to close

I noticed a man run

for it.

I stopped the door

and looked up.

And there he was.

New glasses

Same green shirt

Same bright eyes.

He hugged me, like friends do.

A far cry from our last embrace,

lasting only a few seconds

instead of a painfully beautiful eternity.

We talked like we had before.

But when we parted this time,

I looked him in the eye.

“Goodbye, Chris”

And I meant it.

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Written by
a
American
Published
Apr 14, 2012
Lines·Words
18·79
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