I come to a place I used to come to when it was a place in
which I belonged, a storefront with a tinted window and gold lettering
advertising what it has become, not what it was when I came here before
it is a place that
makes me think of her though she never once set foot here. I came here as an escape because I foolishly
believed if I came to a place she never came to it would help me to forget,
only to find her breathing everywhere like fog on the glass with her initials
written there. as firmly embedded in my memory as if carved in stone
I come to this place where she has never been to remember
her, to recall how I felt and will always feel again, writing my name next to
hers in the fog of time
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