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I Can't Remember the Color of Your Eyes...

Artwork by Sierak
Midi is "Carrie"

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                          It's always in spring, that
                          memories come to mind;
                          flickering candles at midnight,
                          an old photo, a rose from an 
                          old bouquet, pressed between 
                          pages of a book, 
                          a love poem that speaks words 
                          I did not say before you left.

                          I sit there on the bench and breathe
                          the scent of wisteria, as another
                          day passes,  
                          another day to pretend the shadows 
                          on the wall are you and me as we
                          used to be, not a wistful
                          mirage spawned by yearning.

                          If forgiving was a solution, and
                          this vigil I keep, while looking
                          for even a trace of you could
                          bring you back, would it be 
                          the same?                                

                          Funny, how even in my dreams,
                          I can't remember the color of 
                          your eyes.
                          copyright April 2002
                          Judith Anne Labriola

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