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Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #1353930
Left or leaving, it doesn't matter. No one is ever really gone.
I see your face from a thousand miles away
Tiny, perfect, still
Every detail picked out and I remember you
I remember your gestures, your voice
And how you felt the three times you let me hold you in my arms
I see your name in print
With it's nuance and variation
Your subtle slight of hand and gravity
Are memories that will never leave me
Though they may leave me grieving
And when you catch my scent upon the air
From a thousand miles away
Will you even know it's mine?
Or that I'm thinking of you still?
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