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Drunk Cigarette

by Christopher Shin

Count the stars with me,
and let them glide
as the liquor burns
ever so softly in the
night sky.

Kill the wolf as it
cries to the moon,
and slowly we become
hopeless in our
swoon.

Tell the meaning,
and say the words.
Cause all we have
is a confusion of
me and you.

Ask for love,
and only receive
the pain.

In the end we
are but fools.

12/05/2009

Posted on 12/05/2009
Copyright © 2022 Christopher Shin

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