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All day he’s tasted it.
Last night too.
His eyes burning,
like the city where
smoke still chars the sky.

History will not record
exactly how it was.
Some perhaps will grasp
wisps of the story.

He knows his part.
She looked back.
He yearned to.
You cannot live so long together
and not lean into the other,
longing having grown
like twin trees

Memories,
Not all smoke-nor tears-
but glintings and illuminations
and laughter as well

He offered his daughters.
Brassy offenders, these men
would not take common desserts.
Like most, they desired to rise-
the closest to truth they’d come.

But, how different was the heart
that offered his daughters?
Not all desires acted-
seeking-
the numinous everywhere.

Having to face deserts again,
he turns from his wife-
a salt lick for cattle,
his head a brazier.

Dear Reader,

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