of my thoughts.
she picks up speed
then slows
then stops.
she whispers my name, she whispers
again.
she whispers without beginning or end.
the breeze in her hair, the air in her lung,
she never left my name
unsung.
she never left the words undone.
she takes a breath deep,
she opens her eyes;
she thinks not of truth and neither of lies.
she knows it was all and all for naught.
she strolls down the alleyway
of my thoughts.
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