your question caught me by surprise and for a brief moment time stopped all is as it once was splashed against the saga that was you and me memories rise I can't deny the power you had the power you took, the power I gave away bobbing across stains of yesterday I remember the canvas, filled with shadows colored in pencil, finished in charcoal all we have left are these skies of September vague recollections of spectacular climbing westward as we sit here and speak I wait now for springtime summer buds feel lazy winter waltzed outside the accepted line while autumn sighed years from now, will we stop and savor our wine filled to exact and not one inch more, as we reach for the oracle spanning decades to look at the same page will we remember and treasure us?
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