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Goodbye, Gin
(after reading William Styron's Darkness Visible)
Face me fair and say farewell
as you slope off, amigo.
You've already punched me twice today
in the stomach.
***************
What times we've had, though,
here at this old table.
When you first played your violin,
danced that glittery waltz,
I vowed to follow you,
devout, into bright lights
and the darkest corners.
Should I blame you, now,
as you reverse the chase?
Should I accuse my betrayal
of body as it bucks, sinks,
protests with revulsion after taking you in?
My hands tremble, want nothing but
to choke your slender neck.
Desperate, I ache to empty you
but I cannot.
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