A heart-stoppingly, heart-breakingly
the emphatic appearance of
one in fifty thousands, perhaps.
In a magic-laden tavern where
Somehow all works for now: the
nouveau-chic before the brutal
high-profile and ornery sludge.
Then, somewhere else next year
(and that poor, beautiful face . . .)
Yes, but the Ephemera hatch eternity
by million billions
and only ego am lost.
[ home ]