Of a faded face.
Left to be forgotten
In an abandoned
Place.
Each trace that
Was etched is
Done with.
Every scar is
Masked and
Left to be choked.
All half baked
Stories thrown
To the embers.
Unwritten songs
Fed to the
Cold wolves.
Each memory
Rubbed off with
Lemon and salt.
Washed clean in
The sea that was
Vast.
But salt water is
A good preservative
They say.
Maybe that's why
She's all over,
Again!
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