Having left my eyes ajar,
night falls in:
drunk and tired as ever,
asking me to tend
the electric altar of his current stars.
It’s been days since
you packed up the suitcase
of your kiss.
I’m here with the night,
catching the anti-meridian in my arms.
Bonnie McClellan-Broussard 
Dear Bonnie, great poem! I especially like the second stanza. Is there a chance you might come to Dallas in the fall? Love to see you. Bisous Sent from the desk of Liliane G. Richman
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