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Sarah Tayler Jul 2016
You were here.
Your dishes are in the sink
Unwashed, like you always leave them
A coffee cup, grey with a white handle
The one you always use
Without even a sip, the flavour ghosts on my tongue
Strong, sweet, and black
Though now cold, I know it was scalding
The way you always liked it
Your scent still lingers on my couch
A wave of sweetness with an underlying dark note
Just like you
*But it was the one I always loved
I haven't written in ages and I was inspired by a ******* bin....... go figure.

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