Sugar slips down this hourglass
protected inside shimmering bulbs,
counting down my possibilities
as I run out of sweetness.
Mellow crystals of the past:
My coffee is bitter and dark.
But I swear I’ll wait grain by grain
for your last time travelers
to get in line,
and smash your cowardice
against this wall.
And when we are face to face,
and your refinement motionless
on the floor,
you’ll tell me,
you’ll tell me how much is left for us.
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