Thursday, June 8, 2017

Weightless Valentine

Maybe the weight of the will
We’ve gathered is all
We can take into the new country
Our thoughts fall off like husks
Dried-out and a little indignant
To have been used so palely
Our feelings left with little
To eat tomorrow but bitterer
And sourer vineyards
The cup now empty
The last gulp
Cleansing the palate
For the gods

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