I saw you again last night; through the mist inside my head.
Your face was clear.
You looked at me, then through me.
No recognition creased your features, for a stranger I had become.
The years have gone and older grow I; with each passing moment the skin grows drier and my soul more coarse,
and lonely,
and lost.
She is lovely, your lady.
The home magnificent and fine and you;
more beautiful than before.
I longed to reach out and touch your face,
just for a moment.
To kiss those lips, again; just once.
You looked right through me, again.
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