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

Lorrie Desbien

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How hideous is the Heaven that separates us.
Hell is here and now without you.
I inflated a balloon for my deflated life,
wrote a thousand "I'm Sorrys,"
tied them on a string and let go of the potable pain, praying
that the cumbersome grief would be lifted to the Heaven that holds you.
I could be carelessly carefree again.
With selfish sentimentality,
woeful winds carried my noteworthy
and noxious news to you.
I'm sorry.
I watch until they disappear and wait.
A monstrous moment goes by and the gentle grief
wafts back down to me and remains.
Thankfully, as it is all that remains of me.