The tears you cried in preparation
were just as table salt as mine
upon discovering you'd become God
and put an end to life.
The pain those tens upon tens killed
as they fell like marbles in a jar
was greater than we knew by far.
Thank God that's over now.
A glass with the last kiss you gave
still burdened with the wine we'd aged
was all that felt alive as they
attempted to revive. Today
there's still no way to swallow
all you've done, nor understand
why if you thought you had it planned
you never thought to grab my hand.
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