Saturday, 24 December 2016


Like ghosts, our memories are haunting.
Keep looking at pieces that won't fit anymore.
While the ethereal feelings come up and down.

Most of time.

Memories are becoming the ethereal sunshine between the withering teak forest.
Heart warming but it'll pass.

The laughing wind and the dancing memory.
Palpably shaping through time.

The obscure you.
Are erased.

And so now.

We are alien.

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