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clandestine life

with it’s icy soaking fiery gaze
it all ended, blown away
with out a care, for the other
what did he mean by that
when he wrote it with red pen
to-get-her  together
unscrambling the letters
to bleed them dry
haunted by the refraction
in the glass, of that day
when he laid his head
at his feet, crossing fingers
over toes and speaking
through his nose
he crumbled to ashes
to dust while we lust
after the memories
stroking the images
shaking any information out
the forgiveness of many
is love, i was saved once
when 3 and a half, he know best
no questions asked
he knew the rest
saved from?
no memories
do tell of the lost horror
that sculpted destiny
a clandestine life

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