Breath of the Gypsy,
whipping through buildings,
sending papers to nowhere.
Traveling every nook, dilapidated.
Until it flaps browned timeworn curtains.
Blood of the Gypsy,
flowing gutted waters.
Carving a path.
Splashing to and fro without clear purpose.
Never journey’s ending will come.
No respite from wearying path.
Kiss of the Gypsy,
still on lips.
Haunting dreams…
Just beyond fingertips.
Aching for the scent of a feeling,
once again…
Life of the Gypsy,
never held too tightly.
Forward forever looking.
Never forgetting who’s left behind,
in rose colored destruction.
Death of the Gypsy,
in unknown spaces.
Last thoughts of a million places.
Skin, bone, and faces.
Left behind.
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