Memory Assassin
Thursday, 2 October 2014
ghost ride
your last traces,
smoke and vapour
a smudge of regret
lingers without texture.
recycled time
and time again,
you create a slice
of space for me
during this white ride
to Elsewhere.
1 comment:
The Keeper
3 October 2014 at 16:48
Memories, they are called.
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Memories, they are called.
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