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If it weren't for the vacancy in your eyes
I might think you were with me
yet I stand in awe of what I see
less an admiration
more of a longing
as there were many more years ahead
time is whimsical
often precarious
and there are too many distractions
too many faults imposed upon us
before that time is gone
and we are left with nothing
but forgotten ambitions
while dispersed memories
dwindle from one to the next
like lace and virtue
until each moment has its final day
and we ourselves are nothing 
but bits of earth and salt
our bones diminishing
in the sand