Those pictures hanging
on the
wall,
long lost from
the exuberant Breath
when alive and
those living now,
those pictures
in your
heart,
for Memory
binds them stronger
to you ,not allowing
a crevice,
you crave for
those memories,
moments of sad
music still
ringing in you, they gently
tapping
to the tunes. Tears
are ultimate
rewinding episodes.
In a way, pictures are
impasse,
Also tales of
flow.
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