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GHOST LOVERS

Vera made him feel a butterfly
What she did not tell him was that the love she gave him was but a fly
So elusive and would die after seven days
Like one Simon Makonde
Every time he met his old friends
They asked him how his love life was
The love that he had convinced them had nine lives
Nine times he had fallen in love
Eight times the love had died tragic deaths
And this is the ninth eulogy he made me to write for one same love
On whose epitaph was but one word
Vera
With nothing in the space he once called heart
He became a dangerous vacuum
Sucking in everything that called its self a sweetheart
And killed all the nine lives of love in them in one snap
So they became as he
What can be best called ghost lovers


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