Fingerprints

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Some people leave notes before they leave—a string of words that will seal the memories. Some people leave gifts—a collection of things to help remind and reminisce. But I will leave fingerprints—a trace, an echo, a part of me—for these linger like rust to steel or a negative to a film. I will mark you with my ink, my indelible ink, and you will read the lines I have carved on your skin. I will haunt you like a shadow wherever you go for I am the ghost of a person you will remember the most. I will be the gray on the clouds you see, my whisper will be the patter of the rain you hear. My touch will be the sigh of the gentlest wind and I will be the jolt that wakes you from your dreams.

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