Sips

Sips

There in the air,
we fly together,
never alone,
though ever in need,
we feel as though,
our minds are lost,
hearts are torn,
and all hope shorn,
but truth be told,
we live to hold,
we die to breathe,
with both our hands,
on just one knee,
and there in time,
and under space,
we hold out for,
that warm sweet taste,
if days were thumbs,
we’d have too few,
and love that numbs,
would be so true,
now lying still,
by weedy tufts,
we shake off hate,
and broken stuffs,
to rise renewed,
and come unglued,
by summer skies,
by hope imbued,
if ever there,
were words to tell,
as picturesque,
as dark bluebell,
and drifting off,
to dreamy sleep,
we cast our anchors,
for the deep,
and sail into,
the cotton cloud,
enjoy the view,
by fate allowed.

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