By m.Paolo macariola
A yard
of galaxies
could have
hovered
between us
contracting
and
expanding
like blackholes
pulsing
into the heart
of space
but....
we
could no more
than specks of dust
you and i
drifting aimlessly
into
distant oblivions
we depart
nameless
like the ancient stars
--For her, a stranger still
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