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Bliss

The sun peaks through my window and bliss strikes again.
To my surprise, I find another day with no problem.
Gratitude pours over my soul like a baptism, and I say Amen.
But at the same time, "how could it be possible", I ask with intent? 
To be sustaining the perfection of this present moment.
It's as if my grip cannot slip, and my hands are made of cement.
For the first time in many years I have nothing to lament. 
Despite that fact that she's gone and it's vacant on her side of the bed,
I seek warmth from time to time, when a guest lies there instead. 
Despite troubles up ahead, I'm intoxicated by the solace in my head,
Finding prophylactic relief from the dead-weight that I've shed.
And to make myself clear, all the words left unsaid, the texts left unread,
Could not convince me to go back to that existential dread,
That would hit me instantly, simply from opening my eyes back then. 
We pray for love and companionship and a life-long friend,
And what we get in return can be hard to comprehend, 
In the end, all we can ever be given is the opportunity to be men.  




 

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