visually see it—

the condiments.

Do I think of you,

lovely? I have borne those eyes—

remembrance,

before me and after.

Such is pure, bridled

lease to life.

Scorch the earth,

ray the earth—

outstanding one.

Such is the wish of gin:

drink once—missed twice,

faded by the third.

“Sorry,” “worry”…

but lip service—

a jackal of no comfort,

a cruel mistress.

So please—keep worry,

and shine for the third.

Once upon…

Another story is written...

with me, the ever-enjoyable

reader.

Written by https://www.threads.com/@munyxs

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