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You still exist
In my mind
In the quiet between two songs;
You exist, yet
In every broken glass shard
In the tattered poster of my room;
You exist, honey.
In the twitch in my eyes,
The silent mode of my phone;
You exist always,
Like a thorn in the grass,
like a rain cloud on the haunted house.
You exist,
In the end of a wistful poem,
In the goodbye of a mayfly just born.
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