March 16, 2008
Go back
And fetch the ghost.
His see-through romantics and
Hushed smile, the ashen iris of his eyes
Feeling blue.
Go back
And pick-up the pieces.
The sunbled drops of heartache and
Rainfelt pinches of tears
Blushing blue.
Go back
And throw over the life preserve.
Into a crimson current of tides and
An ocean sorely missing its shade
Of blue.

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