but just touch the hot air
from your lungs,
because you are gone.
Vanished,
but far from being forgotten.
You're caught in my unconscious memory,
like my life of long ago.
You are a ghost.
In this cemetery,
sympathy is
an empty grave,
and lies lay like the dead.
I'm tired of you,
but I'm optimistic.
Can't say I miss you,
but I can't say I ever did.
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