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Gathered Dust

Tags: love
Prose is only as meaningful
as the words expressed.
If from the soul,
of sensualities keep chest.

At times they have set,
and gathered dust.
Upon the shelves of time,
but never forgotten. 

Now years have past.
Time has caught up with me. 
My memories have remained,
as if yesterday's kiss.

Poetic love,
bundled and tied.
Like ribbons in your hair,
never turns mellow.

Tonight's sleep, 
may be tomorrow's farewell.
With flowers on my tombstone,
I will always love you.

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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