hours after the planned bedtime
we’re up, wondering how the
hours could have flown by,
how we could have so willingly
spent precious hours this way
only to sit at the dinette
in the delirium talking
of men who keep bees
and speak deep thoughts
or of Wil with one “L”
or of polenta scented with lemons
and so, the night comes to
an end,
thank goodness.
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