In the emporium
of what once was,
I walk past shelves
of faded touches,
memories folded
like worn-out fabric,
their colors
drained by time.
Your voice lingers
in the dust,
soft, unsettled,
searching.
But nothing here
is for sale anymore,
only left behind.
#vss365 #poetry #emporium
of what once was,
I walk past shelves
of faded touches,
memories folded
like worn-out fabric,
their colors
drained by time.
Your voice lingers
in the dust,
soft, unsettled,
searching.
But nothing here
is for sale anymore,
only left behind.
#vss365 #poetry #emporium
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