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Ce Soir Puis Peut-Etre Ce Soir
TONIGHT then maybe
this Evening awaits me
that place i drink
in some peace
leaving song
leaving words
leaving paintings
behind? This never.
My constitution
bravely happier:
i am supremely
patient!
The sneeze gave me
reprieve. These tears
a single eternal moment
my pain resigned
if i have gold then
shall i choose North
: deeply digging
and crawling toward
the Land of Vines?
--sorrow ah, the brain
thinks unworthy
but i know of no
pure loss!
Près des bois flottants.
:: 02.14.2022 ::
Copyright ©
Ernest Robles
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