cannot halt two hearts in flight.
They go forward or they crash.
As we did that remember night.
Cannot jump with sodden parachutes,
wrung of my tears, your tears.
Or fall back, or fall back,
down all the years, the years.
For the dirt-cheap tears of nostalgia,
indulgent in first-love-locked eyes,
are, unfortunately, a one-way ticket,
for what never dies, has died.
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