A hundred years on, I mummify
Under pinetree and cyprest and
Children cloaked in 3D twirling
Unseeable, unfathomable bliss
So I grow older imperceptably
With each further quarter-hour
Drowning in the breathtaking
Fragrancy of pine-sap oozing
From the autumn heat of Lisbon
My sight and my aging trapped in
Hot golden amber
Wish you were here
Your perfect smile
To kiss sense into me
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