shot glass
title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Barbara Hughes


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Mind Lust

My mind refuses what it wants
wet with my wistfulness and why wind why
go gather quickly before every shadow has

dispersed everywhere but beside you

when I am alone my hands cling
to the cut flowers and butterflies
turning into a toss of breath no more no less

Into the light you leave me grasping as if there is no other

how are you never in the same room?
when you are
it's my only refuge

the other is intruding

evidence that life once flashed
before its own divine
and before the mirror that breaks itself

every billion years