There are some things
I will never understand
like the aching gap
'tween me
and what, I thought
I’d surely find by now.
instead, I stand
in coffee warm kitchen:
wondering
will the love I bear
forever,
overflow?
Onto the countertop
No precious cup
to hold it?
When
I find
that moonbright chalice
Shall I love thee
til death do part?
for this, would be art.
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