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May 2014
Doors will creak, and floorboards crack,
Your feet soft kisses on the wood
In this house, a terminal lies with
No one,
Going anywhere.
I see a flutter, of your ghost
Subtle memories of you,
Are what I dream of when I sleep
Not simply
A life without you.
Ruined if so
Today, though, is mine.

Ours.
ryan
Written by
ryan  Seattle
(Seattle)   
395
   Robyn
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