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by Francine Schwartz

Of broken glass
Strewn about the floor
Remnants of our conversation
From ten years before

You dazzled me with romance
And told stories till the dawn
But it wasn’t you there with me.
You were already gone.

Once I was a princess
In a far-off foreign land
You traveled miles and miles
Through sleet and storm
Just to hold my hand.

But that was very long ago
Before the winds of time
Changed my tears to melodies
In the far reaches of your mind.

A hundred years from now
When we are old
Our dreams set out to sea
I’ll take your hand
And you’ll remember
The girl who wasn’t me.

Crying in the dust storm
Our tears falling in the rain
We’ll hold each other like children
Till we are whole again.

Copyright © 2009 by Francine Schwartz

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