Life’s bitterness
melts on my tongue,
like the tasteless wafer
placed by a priest,
full of false promise,
and a redemption
to come:
the next day,
the next minute,
always a later
waits with hope,
like a bouquet of roses,
until there is not
another next.
We are compelled
to believe
in something other;
some translation,
without metaphor,
into a clarity
we can understand.
(October 3, 2014)
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