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WickedHope Mar 2015
When you exhale,
Your breath forms a cloud.
I wish your intent
Was as clear to visualize.

These silhouettes we cast on the wall,
A fading echo of who we are now;
The only reminder you leave with me
Is the smell of you waning on my sheets.
I dunno... (I swear I don't write these.)

As always: some memory, some fiction, mostly truth.

— The End —