At A Wine Bash To The Strawberry Sunrise

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At A Wine Bash To The Strawberry Sunrise

“You’re delusional,”
She said with disdain,

“Of course I am”, he replied,
“I can’t afford not to be,

If I wasn’t,
We’d only have cold, empty nothings,
And how would that be for the kids?

It would be like fasting on Thanksgiving,
Or unacknowledged, joyless Christmases,

No one wants to live in that world,

Flowers wouldn’t exist,
They’d be booted out of the transcendental garden
For the sin of being so alluring,
Terminated from the cold spectrum,
Expelled, sent on down the road, east of Eden,
In another lifetime, in another vision,
In another realm,

I’m delusional with good reason,
I’m delusional because of the bafflements of love,
And all its messy, ego-entwined syncopations,

Otherwise,
We’d disqualify the drunken sunrise
For being so real,
For being so adamant,
For being so redemptive,
For being so cleansing,
And for being so sacred”…

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