A blank book lay on the table.
On it, the keys of the house
Waited to lock, unlock.
A gilded frame, echoing memories
Of love, waited, to be lifted, held.
Dragonflies silently flew following the rays
that streamed through the window panes.
The table cloth, bed sheets; friends in time
Looked at each other in the gloom.
The vase stood tall, awaiting fresh flowers.
Listless,...
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