The ghosts of yesterday 
Come to visit in vacant time
And I, alone, shall greet them.
Their host, I lead to rooms,
The pleasure domes
Of youth.

Where I call them back to life
One by one,
To propose a toast
To intimacies past.
Lost love will ring
Cathedral bells tonight.

The aftertaste is bittersweet, 
But unforgettable scents
Cling to my preserved guests
Like tobacco smells
On the worn coat
Of memory.
 

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