Someone’s tincture


The footprints
you left,
had impressed
in depth.
The vestige
of you,
solaced me
in conspue.
Your souvenir
though plain,
had calmed
in vain.

But now
the trace,
never alleviate
my pace.
The memories
even scratch
my wounds'
repairing patch.
And impale,
tear apart
my soul
with dart.

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