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Well-tempered
As Bach's staccato joy takes hold
Of Book 1: Prelude No. 3
A clavier so mild, calm
Lagavulin-scented air
Peat moss, weather fair
The happy harpsichord
And the placid piano
Join in my glass
Mingling, giving the whisky
A nuance
Of elegance
Balancing the burn
Excellently
Romantic, isn't it?
The giant, blue, ice-cold
Air flurries, quickly
Hydrogen and helium
Methane ice - like an oddly-
flavored slushie, likely unpalatable
But surely nice to see
So far from Helios' reach
A blizzard of cerulean rushes across
A mass so great
It would require Herculean strength
To move her but an inch
Mathematically predicted
And there she was
A beautiful, azure conclusion
To our solar system
On the clouds
I lie
Candlelight
Illuminates the night like
a firefly
I am deep, far-fallen
into the land of sleep
Mars' volcanic activity
Giving light 
To my dreams

I am calm
The marina was lifeless -
just boats, no captains
It was cold, but
nice - you and I

Like a campfire, maybe
Except you didn't smell
like lapsang souchong tea
More like honey, something

sweet, like devil's cake baking
Your touch - an equatorial sunbeam
It burnt, but I think the tan
looks good
Azure mixed with red
Wine stains ripple the oceans -
Black pen shining through
with all these rumors
swirling around you how do
you keep your hat on?
Cy Tolliver
you see me empty
then do not pause and inquire
but assume and pour
Swearengen
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