Sunday, February 5, 2017














Past loves have painted 
on the walls of my heart;
their art fades but marks me. 
I run my fingers 
over muted bright colors;
the magic remains 
but it doesn't cast the same 
spells as long ago-
it surrenders to 
the collapsing words, “Oh well" 

& finds life elsewhere. 

.Laura Curren.
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