aches of mornings
nights wild and aggressive
some outbursts here and there
we were nowhere together
the nights are as usual long
and drunk and the hours run like
ecstasies
boats with ports and oars
plunging to an edgeless horizon
trickles of light arrive
on the curtain
like dripping water like what
drips between us
aches of morning
realizations about what wrongs are there
we make and cannot unmake but as usual
we will always be on the learning
to forget
that is the only way to go
head high, secrets kept
dress the code and
dwell on a new abode.
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