Thursday, April 21, 2016

sazerac

vampire past twilight
he drags on the dying embers
rotten cherry cigarette
and looks at the full moon
how it reflects death back at him
relishes this moment of mortality
this last glimpse of sun
in the fading blue of nightening sky
as brief and true as the absinthe rinse
on yesterdays sazerac

what is longed for
cannot be realised
what is lived
never dreamed


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