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05.03.08 / 2:37 pm
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the ghosts hang around in this town,
opaque white sheets and steel chains rattling,
the townsfolk unsure, the ghosts unsettling;
they hide behind buildings in the dark
and glide behind you on the walk.
spirits, immaterial.
reminders of her lips, his hands, her eyes
like those features are immortal, unforgiving;
and at night, their harmony soothes you into sleep
like songs from the 40's, slow ballads of love.
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