Letters strewn,
Across the dusty table,
Satin bows,
That used,
To hold our hearts together,
Frayed,
The dusky pinks,
And baby blues,
That marked our conversations,
With pretty bows,
And precious words,
The scent of you still lingers,
Here in the creased sheets,
Of yellowed papers,
I look back on our life,
And the portrait of you,
On the side of the bed,
Where you used to be.
~Rei Shiori
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