I’m thirsty sans aught to, as twere, avail. You turn the page now back and forth, a sense Of all we tasted hours ‘go waltzing hence As twould but trip now off my tongue in pale Excuse, just begging for a voice as frail Half silence chews its fingers for intents, And you just make a small noise, like from thence We know, yet feign an ignrance in betrayl. Okay, the sigh’s collective as we stir Our noggins oer that prompt of water—to Leave off as time is called. And you? My poor Thought vanquished, we all burst out laughing through Your lines. Will tears be salty water we’re Left to ‘non drink because of “I love you.”?
02Oct17b
Beginning this upon finishing that other, what I like about this one is how it captures deliciously a sense of the moment.