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Sep 2014
We were together,
laughing until our stomach hurt.
You were throwing silly jokes
and I didn't even mind.

One year later,
we met again.
All black.
Was it a sign?
No, I don't believe in coincidence.
It must be a sign.
Black as in; deep, deeply sad.
Zonk, blank, gone.
Maybe it was really over.

Or maybe it's just me
being utterly stupid.
Believing it all happened,
when it never was.
Written by
Salma Dhiya  Jakarta, Indonesia
(Jakarta, Indonesia)   
287
 
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