Lilacs


Why would i linger on the edge of a nervous night arguing 

about 

lanterns and gin playing over murky gurglings

where shadows pull polliwogs out

by the roots of their hairs 

chanting

of course,

there will be no lilacs there

when 

i could be here 

with you

and spring and buttercups and 

sugar cubes and cafe au lait streams

and of course there will be lilac 

dreams

and 

little daisies floating in our teacups when we wake up

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