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Poem: [what remains …]

what remains
is a certain feeling
an aridity a lawless guilt
some unsung heroes in the quiet
the midmorning after you
gunned me down with your love
took me in your arms
and pressed so tight
what was then
i;
the silent white smoke
from the tips of your fingers
you blew away with a smile
warmly you touched me
on the chest
when i got cold and shivered
at you
you spoke the last words
i will ever grasp
that is
what remains

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