I see your vintage stores
Strolling the narrow streets you used to love
Funky bags and sexy shoes
Glitter, lace and leather
Soulful sounds from the past
Drift over rooftops
A reminder of when blue smoke swirled overhead
And we lay talking, or not
Silence speaks all
Don’t to say too much; that would spoil the magic and mystery
A painful quiet, a mute wanting to scream
Telling the world
About when the breeze drifted gently
Through the curtains and street noise
Echoed softly, keeping company
One story in a city of many, but none of the others mattering at all
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