Reads: 357  | Likes: 1  | Shelves: 1  | Comments: 2

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Adult Romance  |  House: Booksiesilk Classic Group

Sometimes, when evening sets swiftly,

over buildings and murmuring waters,

I walk to the now- cold house of memories,

just to touch lightly the cracked, eroded walls

of what was once a passionate affair.

Sometimes, when night falls suddenly,

I roam around the deserted streets

of the now-empty posh neighbourhood

of our own long faded love story,

Sometimes, when the dawn takes too long

and my arms find no one in the darkness,

I travel to the once beautiful old country

of our kisses and spiralling climaxes.

And then I slowly return to my own self,

leaving my secret shrine firmly locked,

till the river brings back your dear name

and our story blooms again for a second

in that time we shared and then lost,

when life and ourselves seemed eternal.



Submitted: January 23, 2022

© Copyright 2023 Lizziewolf. All rights reserved.

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Add Your Comments:



Wow, that is really excellent. Love that last line. Love the repetition. Beautifully written and moving. You have a way of personifying a place and bathing it in a reverent light of memory.

Sun, January 23rd, 2022 2:35am


Wow, thank you! I love places that remind me of old loves.

Sat, January 22nd, 2022 8:21pm

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