The last touch.


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Lately, I blink often and touch photographs.

I wonder long and hard;

Are you really, like actually, gone?

Have you left us to continue being a filial wife?

Or did you stop wanting to be a ‘burden’ to us all?

I’ll continue remembering the softness of your skin and feel alive.

All I ask are questions, I know answers to.

Yet, I know nothing else, but to ask.

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