a deceitful drag

Hyacinth garden

Diagoras the atheist pours the wine while I drink along,

he gives breath to a whimsical whispering wind.

sense shadowy scents of passion that went wrong,

their sardonic treatment of love can puzzle and offend.

no reader can question the words my muse will produce,

just beyond tomorrow is fickle waving too many white flags.

long hours alone must seduce my lover’s sweet abuse,

all I know is breath through jade still floats deceitful drags.

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