soft had been the first foot to cross the threshold that year
so in her honour he dabbed whiff behind his stale ears
and tho’ he weren’t dish enough to possess an std
he still sought to ward off the past with its very near teeth
and risk love on the rebound
swilling eschatology in the bottom of root beer floats
he said, “i know what i’m not but still would you let me drain your moat?
for i would pass those tensile battlements you have stacked there atop
and take you on the sectional and the morrows yonder that”
a new love begging to be found
it said, “hey! do you live here?
won’t you raise a toast to this tired earth with me?
yeah, let’s do, let’s begin anew, jowl to cheek”
the maiden of maidan’s flight had taken her from war to here
she said, “there must never be other…
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