where everything gets soaked
I feel like getting drunk
and listening to the kind of jazz
that goes with dry martinis
and the performance of the present
and yet I want to reminisce
about the last five minutes of existence
during which you hypnotized the sun
eased the release
of its repressed self-feelings
like the relinquishment of longing
after a heavy rain
I long to see you
lift your glass again
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