and talking to my napkin
the forks have all left the room
that leaves me, the table cloth, and you.
and some hostess,
who's had a little too much
tipping over on my scrambled.
eggs.
I want to be
the ecstasy that
everybody needs
not an anchor
of emotion
just a wave
upon
your ocean
and deep
a fathom
that doesn't reveal
the pain
I feel.
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