A Whisper

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The moments are mere shadows of a memory

Collecting dust in my mind like old books,

The stories only half remembered,

Slipping through my fingers like smoke

 

I can almost hear the whispers of our laughter,

The echoes of forgotten conversations

And the faint heat of the blazing infatuations

That now are only ash and dust

 

I stumble through the age old dance

Knowing the motions but not remembering

And I wonder if you can still dance

Your words with mine like before

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