Slideshows

Watching slideshows of your smile

I am trying to scrape the remnants of you

Out of myself.

Our tragic reunion

Has killed the last bits

Of both of us.

Sound of the wind touching your hair

Makes me melt,

But the volcano has cooled down.

Your voice is a crying cello

That brings peace to my ears.

Look hear, my dear;

So much time has passed

That I can hardly remember your face,

But you are still haunting me.

I have been holding the door open

For you to leave,

But the curve of your lips

Is still pouring rains of nostalgic foolishness on me.

Time to light it up.

Bring me the matches.

I will burn the slides,

The whole memory room;

We will be watching ourselves disappear

And turn to embers.

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