Desperation hisses at me
Incessant with susurrant syllables,
Dry with the clatter of October wind.
I thirst for the bon vivance of youth
When I frittered away laughter
On an azure spring morning.
I thirst for the fullness of my summer
Fruit ripe, bursting its skin,
The red juices flowing out my mouth
It will rain soon.
Then the soft stillness of snow,
So cold, so much like death.
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