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Iago
tangboy
.::...... .:: :::.: :::: :::::. .:::.:.. .:.:::. ::.:::


Fashion..
He laid emeralds in her eyes, oh but I'd
already tied, a bracelet made of gold and scarlet
thread around her wrist, and everything was wrong so we
sang sentimental songs. Oh how seldom we belong but
how elegant our kiss, and we painted crooked lies but we
danced in perfect time to a love so much refined, we
know not what it is until like a dullen wine we pour
into a grief we know before but it's never quite like this.. never quite like this.
All I know now is regret, it follows like a silhouette
along the cobblestone behind me, but has nothing to
say except to innocently ask, a voice as delicate as
glass, "Do you see me when we pass?" but I continue on
my way.

March 2014
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Iago [userpic]

Back in those days, he was more ghost than human, haunting friends and relatives, bars and houses, instead of living and breathing, unable to let go of the things that kept him there to move on to whatever was next.

When he thought about that old life he mourned it like great great grandfather, someone he never really knew but was related to, he knew, somewhere in his mind, that that was the same blood and bone, but it was a clinical connection more than a spiritual one, he occasionally tried to be sad about that, but couldn't bring himself to be.

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