you supposed that the change of seasons
spilled these words onto the page but
the sun came and now its hiding again but
we hadn't seen a single verse from this
mind that's hasn't seen much other than
teflon and cracked plates. the wine has filled
the perpetual glass and now we can argue that
its gentle lubrication brings the wolf into the night
and gives us something to run from
vulnerable, so softened by day and easy living
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