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Jun 2014
The hooks are gone,
A cat declawed,
Your memory, a diffused bomb

Existing in neither time or space,
Happy moments without a face,
All free to dance like marionettes.

And
Not even hearing that old tune,
Or seeing you across the room,
Could pluck these heart-strings
to make me swoon

Nor the way you make me laugh,
As we joke about times past,
Could move my heart
to break its fast.

Not even when you've gone,
And your scent still lingers on,
Would I wish you'd pressed your luck...
Oh ****.
Benjamin Woolley
Written by
Benjamin Woolley  Phoenix
(Phoenix)   
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