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Oct 2009
It's been awhile since I looked into her blue eyes.
I would drown myself in them for countless years, or so it seemed.
It was too short.
She fell in love with the knot
pain was her sentence.
The smell of flesh lingers.
Her spot is cold.
The bed is bigger.
Sometimes when I close my eyes I can hear her whisper,
"Don't wait up for me."
Michael Bingoff
Written by
Michael Bingoff  TN
(TN)   
492
 
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