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Touristy

I was wandering through the streets I once walked with him,

Going to places he showed me,

The tree he fell from and got a bruise on his right knee,

The lane he once got bullied,

The corner he always misses while picking up take-out,

His favourite ice-cream parlor,

The seats in the theatre where he kissed for the first.

And this and that, this and that.

As if, the entire town was touched by him,

No corner, no lane, no place left unexplored or experienced,

And he was there, on that day, reliving every single memory with me,

As if he was telling the town,

How unfortunate it was to not have me living them with you for the first time.

So, today, when I wander them alone,

Laughing at the stories you told me,

Shedding a tear or two for you leaving the town,

Until I see myself in the mirror at a shop,

Looking like a tourist,

In a town I know so much about.

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