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The old woman called me  With a secret to share A tale of time — mortals’ disrepair…   When you fall in love with an artist —  That’s the moment your death begins An inevitable death of the soul until lif...

The old woman called me 

With a secret to share

A tale of time — mortals’ disrepair…  

When you fall in love with an artist — 

That’s the moment your death begins

An inevitable death of the soul until life’s end;

But when they fall in love with you — 

That’s the moment in which you will be cast

A muse embalmed with immortality 

Where time can no longer pass;

That’s the story, I’ve been told.

I wonder…

Will you cast my skin or embody it’s touch 

Or have I not posed for you enough;

Will you embalm my memories and quirks 

Or will my cremation neighbor the framed fireplace smirks? 

Sometimes I wonder, could it be true — 

That I’ve begun dying whilst 

Desperately trying to preserve 

Every inch of you. 

 

 

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