the man was sitting
on a too-small stool,
but when he said hello,
he didn't get up.
I enjoyed looking down on him.
He was wolfish but boyish,
held his drink with two hands, and wore glasses,
and confessed he knew me,
and that he was sorry.
I said, I don't know you.
And we smiled, relaxed.
I said, I don't know you.
And we smiled, relaxed.
Holding a drink
in our own two hands,
and the path
stretched in front of us forever.
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