Thirty Three Years On


Too often, I forget to see you.
Too often, my love for us
grows cold.
The hustle of my day,
The exhaustion through
my night,
Dampens the most
enflamed emotions,
And enflames the most
hardened mind.
But seeing you,
standing there now –
Holding nothing back –
Reminds me of that day,
When we strolled
Hand in hand,
The sidewalks
of that madding city.
Then, turning, we
dismissed all the rest
(As if they had never existed)


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