Warm honey, savored That Tone is one of those things I can’t put my finger on Intangibly delicious Utterly decadent Every utterance ubiquitous

thrice upon a time

Walking among the archives, Pulling dusty boxes down; all cobwebs and corners Seeking solace in memory While writing for an uncertain future In no uncertain terms It arrives like a freight train Fully loaded and Full of surprises Like that one headlight That I swore was The bright light of God.

now we know

Now we know why there was so much secrecy As if a placeholder is for some reason returned When it requires nothing more Than a simple hello It's true what they say You can't trust anyone these days As if to remind us That the devil is in the details.

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