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September the Sixth
Your bag casually slung on your shoulder Your legs encased in shorts And feet in strapped sandals On September the Sixth You walked jauntily along Thu Le lake In the shadow of my looming hotel Lightly traipsing, a lightness in your gait The joy of acceptance and success At the prospect of entering your chosen portals. Then I came along from nowhere, And was not going anywhere, Till you passed me And then stopped And whirled around to face me Your face wreathed in an unforgettable smile, On September the Sixth that year. And that is how our story began A story that is now ending, As it would have some day Some September, or March, or whenever.
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