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It grips my heart
Everyday of my life
Lurking there
Waiting for me to lash out
No longer able to control it

I can still smell
The desserts
On the old wooden tables,
Long dead,
The old lady’s perfume

I always listen
For a nose being blown
Or a sob from afar
The creak of the isle as
They came,
Paying their respects

I sat there in the balcony
Not knowing what was going on
I didn’t realize it was real
Until she was with us no more.

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