When your door is shut closed and unwelcome
at half past the years from where we used to be
in the midst of the last summer storm
Will I realize then
those dreams of you
something perfectly serene
vanished
Will I realize then
those words of love
Forgotten and unurtured
with the photograph of your youth
and evaporating questions of our future
which never seemed to translate
into verbs on time
Are now unspoken and undefined
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