Aftertaste (a poem)

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Sipping red
wine
by the
window

a crimson
cardinal
slings water
from
a limb

Gazing up
to the
black-woven
sky
―the glum
paradise
stares back
as he flaps
his wings to flight

No tears
No farewell

Just chill
—sour on the breath

                                                                      © brooke
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