Grief Poetry
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I live. Your streaming fingerstrace veins where should be scars,pass along scars where should beyour hollow kisses.I keep connecting youto those long pathwayswhere I deserted old photographs,where I left those notesthat described all your details.I want, though cannotbury you, again, in a heartmade to somehowkeep beating. You are cemented in corridors,added as each blockto build