You visit

me in




a sepia



you always

walk away,


too busy

with life’s




I hesitate

to call


perhaps your

bread will fail


that supple

souffle fall.


You’re always

in my head,


I’ve tried

to love


again, it’s

not the same.


You come

to me


in dreams,


I touch

your face,


I’m smiling

in my sleep,


I even call

your name,


but it’s


too late

too dark


too far



for love,

to blossom.



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