Cold Sky (day 1396)

I’ve handwritten hate notes
From left to right,
Memorized verbiage
And recited it (in vain).
But every time your
Sorceress’s purple slash
Glowing culdron green hair
Circles around my mind
And escapes in little
Involuntary gasps,
I remember your name
And speak kindly of love
We never shared,
Of memories we never bothered
To sculp. For time,
Like lost memories,
Has slipped between our footsteps,
Taking our visages
Out from in front of
Ten foot windows
To Leave our strange encounters
Reflecting like
Clouds in this cold sky.

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