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Saddlesore
It seems only yesterday we were fine
How I yearned for the feel of your mouth
Your every touch would set me on fire
Whether north west east or south
The sight of smoke on the horizon
Haunts me now when I look back
For it was over yonder hill we flourished
Before my thoughts turned so black
That dark column taunts my tortured eyes
Acrid embers still fly off in ...
Thursday 13th August 2020 10:44 am
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