When will words be more than my and your story--
When will we as individuals break
Like two balls of vinegar that burst in an olive-oily medium and swirl
And discolor and merge
In a mind-mingling and sense-sharing convergence?
Not tonight, because I dipped my bread onto the plate
And soaked the oily fluids and swallowed them whole,
But maybe we can dine tomorrow and refill the dry indenture.
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