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Oct 2017
If by this time next year we are strangers,
the tide having carried you away while I stood by scowling,
feet sinking in the sand,
cursing the moon for betraying me,
muttering to myself that I wanted you to go

I will immediately hope to
forget
all those days when

Under bright daylight

                    in the just right mood

                              surprise tinges of gold line your eyes

                                               soften your smile

                                                          ­     and shine your diamond soul

                                                               ­                          through the room
me
Written by
me  37/F/eastbound and down
(37/F/eastbound and down)   
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