Seasoning in the Bright Light

April 16, 2017
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At least in the well we had something to wish for

At least when we fell there was elsewhere to pay toward-

Hold me in,
Black-and-blue eyes and calamity hands
For the wilted orchid, like shattered glass
Water me with soft liquor kisses
With pleasures and tears;
I’ve never grown on anything else

If you’re ever around again, my loveless guest,
This time; this time,
Tell me when you want me to stop-

Well, I know your footsteps on the walk outside
Though nobody’s home with me now

Rest between blackened, bruised thighs, courting your sleight of hand
For the loveless orchid, a withered cast
Clip my wings and I’ll still be right here when you land

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