One hour ago
gunpowder pounded
medieval walls into
pathetic curiosities.
Thirty two minutes ago
printing presses
first turned, shredding
screaming popes.
Twelve breaths ago
Darwin stared, breathless
at a dead
Galapagos finch.
And now
as our neural limbs, entwined
lay spent
and sticky warm serotonin
dribbles down your inner thigh
I stare in wonder
at the tiny L-shaped smudge
on the
cobalt blue bottle
by the bed.
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