Dust forms upon dust,
As it grows uncontrollably,
Like forbidden lust,
Yet in the wind it vanishes,
Spread out across invisibility,
Lost between the eye lashes,
Of your abandoned sincerity,
No matter the length of waiting,
Upon a surface or thought,
I shall not be left hating,
For all that was fought,
Here now, now gone,
Were my eyes true?
Was the heart wrong?
Does love go, all the same?
Or was it a memory,
Of just another game?
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