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At the cemetery, after final words and clods
had fallen,
they quietly talked of her, of time passed.
"How Long's it been?"
"I don't know. Twenty years?"
There was much to say and little.
Much had changed.
Husbands now, and fathers.
When they parted
phantoms filled the air
ethereal,
there but not there.
The sound of Hadley Barrett,
the smell of the Star Theater,
the burn of Everclear and blood
on the tongue,
the gleaming eyes
of willing girls,
memories drifting towards fade.
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