Old Souls

What a gift it is when a soul
meets another of its kind. 
You drink the same brandy and
speak the same unspoken rhyme. 

I can look into your eyes and see all
your sepia scenes drift by. 
From ventures across the sea to
hopes and dreams of untold worlds,
distant eras, and hidden lives. 

I want to hear all of your old tales,
all of your burning lies.

I want the answers to all of my
questions and hopefully,
as my heart begins to beat again,
you want to yours, too. 

BIATA 

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