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Apr 2015
hands break pieces dark uneven
fingers squeeze the bottle red, into a freshly picked glass
plate holds ceremonial a desert dry

be careful what you read into what I write
and I will be careful into what I bite,
this was not an exchange of ideals

dark chocolate, pieces three, late with a plate with
two ginger bread soft snaps, my momma
makes, two together, microwave whether
you trust that machine, till a lift soft and a little warm

no harm to drink the wine with each sweet, spicy soft bite,
hold
for
a moment
in your mouth and taste, the Syrah deep inside the cookie,
as the dark chocolate melts in your mouth, coating teeth,
beneath a moon the clouds want to hide, and all to me
is perfectly clear, just for now. Oh ginger SNAP! softly and quietly
it is late...
Ottar
Written by
Ottar  where you will find me
(where you will find me)   
1.3k
   Elizabeth Squires
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