with a leather-bound hymnal
of sentences eternal
from a sentenced man
I've never met
but know through
laws of physics
despite his fight with cancer
that ended as it does
while a woman
I could almost love
if only she weren't perfect
says too much about her husband
before the separation
divulging secret stories
and origins of pet names
until I almost heave
and it's not to do with grapes.
Too intimate, those sacred seconds
shared by fledgling thespians.
It's the reason that I don't attend
the weddings, uninvited.
It's not a lack of formal wear
that's wearing on my soles.
Currently reading:
"Within the Limits of Self" by Rick Maertens.
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