Limitations of love

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Love is like the variety
Of wines that rest in vineyards
Some are sweet
Like the smooth smelling honeycomb
Others are bitter
Like the Brussel sprouts we were once forced to eat

Is that wine worth drinking?
In the end both vacuum energy, time, and, money
Out of you
To the point where
You contain no more to store
Or to give

I guess I will just risk
All of those things for the
Hope that I find my
Sweetness
And the hope I avoid my bitter





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