Today, you’re seven seas away, my dear.
And I remember that day when you left
My eyes shone -blinked away tears of pride, sheer.
A year has passed, each day I feel bereft:
As you crossed the threshold, my heart was cleft.
That day- the floor littered with your trinkets,
Your camera, earrings, books- no regrets,
Our house- a museum storing relic,
All you shunned, those tchotchkes, trivial objets,
Each room is an archive -autotelic.
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