A quiet evening underneath the stars;
A small café; two coffees, one dessert.
We smile and chit-chat and uphold the farce.
Let's end this nicely. Feelings won't be hurt.
I spare a second to reflect upon
Things left unsaid and choices we have made
That led us here and now. The love is gone
And nothing can be done. It is too late.
I think of how we met: her laughter, smile,
A fellow thinker with a restless mind.
The perfect bliss, if only for a while,
Forever to my memory confined.
The wind is playing with her auburn hair
As I attempt to memorize her scent,
Her eyes, her essence and her very air,
Because I know we'll never meet again.
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