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Residue of Wine

by Christopher Shin

The stain.
It melts and overlaps.
I watch it melds into one.
The thoughts.

They linger with lyrics.
Poetry melts with the
time and thoughts.

Memories come.
They flood the senses.
And I'm sorry.

Sorry for the time gone.

11/27/2015

Posted on 11/28/2015
Copyright © 2024 Christopher Shin

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