Wednesday, February 13, 2008
that poem I mentioned..
BITTER GRAPES Wine was once upon a time divine but now, somehow, the elegance is soured as it's taken and devoured what I knew of you and thought was fine. You sleep it off, unconscious that the sabotage is done, today, tonight are gone, tomorrow spoken for with stumbling tongue and eyes that will not wake to see the morning sun and all its brightness shines upon. And do you miss me, in your sleep? Or miss the time together when we keep each other warm and close-- the time we shelter here...
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