Drunk we are...

Drunk we are on this high summer,
gifting us with flighty graces
that make us sneeze and wheeze,
those lacy lovely hurts of life
of which we constantly complain
and never get of quite enough.

Is there beauty without pain?
Does loss predicate all gain?
Is relentless unraveling
the shape of our becoming?
Can be ever any light
unless the candle burns?


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