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Afterwards
by Alice Elizabeth Thompson

I thought of you one frosty morn
When the dew stood frozen at my door
And not a drop did weep
I thought of you and similes were born
Like golden treasures harboured
To be companions in my sleep
I thought how close we were
With coffee and cigarettes
How close we were, how close…and yet
    Afterwards I cried
The miles are tears
Running down my cheeks

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