there's too much plum
in
the four dollar bottle
of malbec
i bought tonight.
and at this point,
i just don't care anymore.
lately,
we have had the conistency
of strangers.
where everything just drips
until one of us goes to bed,
with
neither one of us
saying our prayers.
but the only difference is,
is that i am here
and
you are there,
and
this bottle we sit in
is certainly not a church.
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