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Feb 2019
Memories of us fall like
snowflakes, beautiful, fragile,
evanescent as they melt
into the tears that dapple
my blue bed.
My hair flows like the river,
frozen,
just like the day we met,
just like the heart that resides within,
no longer brave enough to beat for you
when you are framed
in black and white.
Written by
Rowen Aoyama
836
   misha and FreeMind
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