Poetry

a river and a cloud

It’s the finite fractures and ordinary fissures
of the heart
that last
long after the
heartbreak
to remind you that love is both
a river and a cloud.

So drink of the water while you can
and store up for
the long, crazy
days in the desert: facing worse
than temptation,
facing worse than succumbing
facing yourself.

Drink quickly because
the world is dissolving into a
fine mist that
pours from your pores
into the empty buckets of your hands.

Kevin Crispin
What do you think is up to my right in the picture? A cob web? Probably a cob web. Or maybe it's my Beatles records on top of my air conditioner. It's certainly not fresh, new wainscoting.

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