The day we met
Was one year from The Day he died. We met in this same space. This non-unique coffee cafe where everyone meets In the guise of intimacy; I see them, their laughter, as though it is original. But you were the one, Original That Certain One. Then, we met under That Tree One year later. Did I meet Him or You? Because we met in the same way, on the Same Day And now I feel confused. I saw you, yet I looked for him, Then I looked for him in You, And we planned A Future under That Tree. But then later, I asked him to Free Me under That Tree. And still, I ask.
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Life.There is fiction. There is life. What is the difference? My WritingAll rights reserved. No part of this website may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by and information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission from the author. Archives
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