Insecticide #18

Time;
eternal fractions dipped in wine,
solidarity in youth’s abundant cries.
And she screams, “grace, in all abundance!”

Sighs, with percolating eyes,
and in the rafters of my heart’s contentment,
I see the fluidity of time pass by,
no moment untouched by that stream of water,

That ticking bomb,

How the culinary gods would write my dilated memories.
Only in time,
lest we lose touch
with this instantaneous
blast of life,
lest we let it
pass us by.

Time.

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