Trace of Sinners

The summer waiting on the dark side of the moon
Might have woken her up.
“I was here…”
She’s left a piece of her fragrance
In the darkish nook of my mind.
She might’ve been found a slice of my frail heart that
I’ve left in the deep corner of her room…

Our one mind out of two different minds,
Wanted to commit sins without reins.
Ah! Just like the disease that chained Disciple Paul
Our sinful minds have coiled up between us,
Keeping each other’s memory.
What we only do is that we leave a trace after
Staying a while in front of each other’s door.
Our trace that that might be blown away by
A hot summer breeze.

“Why did you do it?”
What if she knocks the door?
A slight fear in my mind creeps up.

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