the ides of me

the scent of a memory entwines my mind
fleeting and fine
gossamer threads lost in time
ghosts slide sideways onto my path
whispering regret
as i
sip cheap wine
and dine
on bitterness
reunited with youthful afflictions
wondering how i got to this place
missing those gone
repenting words not spoken
contrition my companion
as usual
a day too late
a dollar short

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