Seven

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I sat down by the river.

Beer bottle in one hand, her picture in the other.

The river flowed,

I dipped my finger in it.

It was cold, like her hands.

It was cold, like her whom I used to know.

Like her whom they said has passed away.

Make it stop. Make it stop!

So I dipped my whole hands, my feet, my whole body,

but it still felt like her.

And whilst I drown myself,

a thought crossed my mind.

No, wait.

It was a memory.

Now I remember.

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