david xeno: unto us

The champagne cork pops. I pour glasses for two:

one glass for me, one glass for you.
Bubbles rise through the liquid and merge with the air;
i drain my glass - you are not there.
I dream of religion, i dream of dark sin
i dream of perdition as flames char my skin.
I stare at the wall. The wall slowly dissolves
in mourning for others, in mourning ourselves.

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