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Oct 2013
People talk about
eternity
like it's a stamp
on a letter
they'll never see
again.

I hear
eternity
and all I see
is an endless black cloth
falling out and away
into more darkness.

I hear
eternity
and all I see
is an empty mirror.
A house with no lights.
A hillside in the gloom.
A bed with no you, and no I.
Just time,
stretching out where
the lights go dim,
where your warmth lingers,
but you are vanished.
Written by
Mary Elizabeth
443
   Gail Cortezano
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