we were their rumour
our own lyrical story
dawn was a silvered outstretch
underlined like a glimmering snake skin
the morning star
pointing us homeward
as the sky emptied her web of night life
passage of time sagged
love was persistent and nostalgic
like vigilant vines growing on old
grimy wooden benches
moonlight overthrown with sunrise
restrained by the remnants of our past
I knew you were what evanesce must taste like
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