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Nostalgia MAG
April 7, 2016
You catch me with the
slightest scent, the faintest
whisper, when the rain
patters on my windowsill
almost infuriatingly – on those
quiet mornings when life is a
sickeningly serene lull.
You fill the atmosphere with the
repeating strums of your sweet
melody, never failing to remind me
of the brutal state called the
present tense.
© Trenton O., Highland, UT
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