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A Phantom's Story

His light steps on the cobbled streets
Caught fire from those feverish memories
They had walked hand in hand everywhere
Kissing moon-beams on each other

That thirst he knew so well, parched him again
His lenses heavy around his solo evening
He seared away every curious glance his way
Turning inwards, into her, his sole memory

He had loved her every sun-kissed way,
She had lived his dark hours on her song-wings
Their memories entangled from ways and lives
He is a phantom in places now, lone from her death

Water-stories from Venice, marble-history from Florence
The orchards that melodied their purple-flowered doorways
Nectar that seduced swollen bees and wine evenings,
Were all just cover-page beauty now, shipped to the waiting world

Another set of frames, relentless in their beauty
Their allure tossed in carelessly, for his survival
He warms icy winters, living their tales
A lens-man stalking worlds he once lived in…

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