Ah, memories!
They are like phantoms!
They laugh!
They weep!
They leave
But we remain.
They are like smoke!
We “are” the substance!
And Love,
Like a tiger in wait,
Is always ready
To pounce at us!
****
They are like phantoms!
They laugh!
They weep!
They leave
But we remain.
They are like smoke!
We “are” the substance!
And Love,
Like a tiger in wait,
Is always ready
To pounce at us!
****
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