Vodka

A little enchantment slowly trespassing through life,
so bittersweet this moment,
Oh! The redemption of getting over the little pinpricks,
and finding love.
Love.
Those pages of books and narrating countless equations,
the subtle art of points and lines and curves,
falling in love has never been so easy, has it?
The wild attachment,
the daily thoughts,
as the dissonance speaks and draws this
surreal antipathy of the moment,
how delicate, and how cruel!
Falling in love with non-chalantness,
relentlessness, and slowly dubbing the beauty
with your names and frames,
the table you look at,
the walls you devour,
the pens you trace with,
and fun is the hour.
Slowly, recklessly, and yet so sublimely quick
as the passing time.

Momentous, hitherto the feeling of bewilderment,
canned is this little card-deck,
perfumed with the sweetest damn rays,
the words and lines so therapeutic,
and oh! how someone would love to be there.

Haven, of the infinite jewels,
the cascade of this montage photograph.
Savoring the glasses,
designed and inherently broken,
a sip of vodka,
and the love is lost.


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