Twilight on a November afternoon
shows me the memory of youth
was it when I said goodbye
to you the first time or the last
that doomed silvery reddish sky
before you left for home
I truly felt - never again
and yet now I wish for years
that I never had
or will have
futility and yet fertility
in the poet's mind
because out of chaos
comes a blip and out of
a pop ... a chimera...
a vision of long forgotten
very hot desires -
a passionate embrace
if only in the deepest dark
Twilight when I was young...
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