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Posted by on Dec 29, 2008

Pimatgol

I caught a glimpse of the cold Seoul sky
Through the Pimatgol walkway one last time; shuffled
Along the uneven pavement like an antiquated Yangban,
Whispered and wept for it is going, gone.

The wind whipped, stung my throat, stripped me bare.
It was as if I was never there.

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