Sunday, January 10, 2016

A Happy Death by Albert Camus


is sitting there on the table,
a gift from my delicate lover

The title rings like a heckler’s laugh
as we sit teary-eyed across from one another

We talk about the things that will stay with
us like a brand in our sentience

I get up and stare at the door for ten minutes
before turning the knob and closing it gently

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