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May 2017
Scribbled on napkins,
A relic from that evening,
Memory of the words
Drawled on like the sun setting.

With a gander,
I momentarily lived in the
Earthy brown worlds of her eyes
Resplendent against the orange sheen of the sun.

Reality barked.
It still rings in my ears.
A resonating pain
From a missed memory.
Abigail Del Fierro
Written by
Abigail Del Fierro
297
   Harley Hucof
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