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Stoner Fable

purple rain falling down around us as

we formed the clouds in the night sky the air smelled of patchouli

and the tension was butter on the hood of

the car that would take us higher and higher as we passed through the valley

telling stories of loss around a lit match as we

embrace and love as only humans could

passing ruby sunshine by as we

sit on the porch a while and shoot the shit the only way we know how

the beer in our hands tastes of broken bread and

ancient rituals established by being unrecognizable as ourselves

to devote our lives to

the Heart of the Cards and all the mysteries of life

that we place our trust in to keep us going through the night

the blue dawn calls to the great hall

music drowns out the cry a little longer

smiles with subtle sadness wishing the Lotus eaters would safeguard us a while longer

laughter is the anesthesia that carries us through

records climax, we leave them spinning until the next time.

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