Thumb Poem #9

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“One more?” he asks

“Yes, please,” I reply

It's a full moon and our anniversary

You expect me to stay sober for this dear Buzios?

Then you my beautiful mess, your dream of the past, your dream of new wealth, are sadly mistaken

You should know how I feel about dreams of ascension

It gives me sad smile, like bile

We don't what it is or what it does for us until we taste it

It's a bitter root for our consumptive lives

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