CLOSURES
Line fourteen
closes
to serene
supposes.
A sparkling
soda
toasts the darkling
coda.
Life’s canvas
only
would revoke
the lustrous,
lonely,
last stroke.
THE BEGINNING
The end
of passion
may refashion
a friend.
Eyes meet
in fear
of such dear
defeat.
The heart’s core,
unbroken,
cringes.
The soul’s door
swings open
on its hinges.
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