Monday, October 3, 2011


I can now look at you
Without any longing
When the eyes
Are no longer fire-flies
The cascading tresses
Having thinned to a fizz
The sinuous walk
Turning mock
The bewitching smile
Gone a while
Both now level
Caricatures of ourselves
Almost where we started
Empty-handed for all the travel
Having seen only the same
Pretending they were not the same
The feet now weary of leaving
Knowing there can never be any leaving.

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