angel particles

floating like that gentle kiss

- barely touching -

that happens at the micro brew

is



the poem that carouses in my head

just before i fall to slumber



a few words of bliss

that i try to hold onto

through the night

but is often lost



a night of pleasure

that floats around

your smooch



that grasps at

the tranquility

of your embrace



and that

i could never let go

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