Saturday

Presbyopia

the cigarette smoke rises

revolving toward the light

to paint a portrait



the face of a legend

satisfied mind of his own

eyes piercing through a sure future



je n'en connais pas la fin



mondays peel away with memories

intimacies desired



because

one day

while no one was looking

his soul submerged into the mighty mississippi



dream brother whispered into my ear


hallelujah, he said

i know it's over

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