This week fades out into another lost story
and I, stand at the edge of this detached cliff
wondering about the fates and faces
of men who have come and gone.

It is cursed, the way I shape our conversations in mind
and I cannot undo words spoken.

In a few days marked with regrets and wonderment,
you will exist solely in my transient memories –
6’3, tufts of brown hair,
and eyes that read me so well.

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