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Delicate Was (Free verse) by klosterfobik

Just when my unmeant imagination thought it safe, just when I thought I'd learned - to forget to remember the suntanned symmetry of you; I happened upon a tragical trace of a scent of past perfume - a sickening sweet, redolent relic, of almost - always past, left upon a pillow on the unmade bed where once we laid and dreamt and shuddered. Just that one slippery, apple-green breath of delicate was stole truth from time and past from fate. So long it seems - an age ago, maybe even longer, so hard to tell these days - harder still to tell these days from dreams - dreams of together - perfect and peculiar us.

edpeterson 28-Oct-04/7:01 AM
i had intended to rank this poem on its merits, but then I read the comments. adverb indeed. -0-




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