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Never ink.



Once upon a winter’s day

before

utter evening

descended.


Remembering

clearest mornings

spent

enthralled

intermeddled

with

a fine girl

all

of a fluster.


Dialogues and disputes.

Passions and fashions.


Between us

a lifetime.


And now

in watery light

a betwixt and between

time

of

unsteadiness on stairs

and fear

of

doing

oneself

an injury

on linoleum.


Committing a much-rehearsed

atonement

to

lined paper.


In pencil

never ink.


A cup of tea with my

ill-fashioned companion

is heaven enough.


To make each other

out

a

miracle.





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