In pub, Musing on the end of a Love
These drinks we drink, together
the songs I hear you hum,
the stories you tell so animated-
where go they, when I'm gone?
Our steps are now erased by the rain,
the glasses we drank from now washed,
The room where we slept sound now emptied-
and the memory of your kiss, now lost.
Wednesday, 25 April 2007
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