Exhausted by some memory of imagined moments

I am still led by my weakness for pleasure.

Yet when we meet

reality joins us for tea.

A cup passed

overflowing with unpleasant reminders

that this brutal forgetting was not all based

in romanticized selflessness.

Indismissable Silence

is a small window pane away from unchecked priorities

and uncurtailed emotions.

We rarely admit grammar in the real world,

less it play us the fool

but perhaps said lotus-eaters

would find comfort in responsibilities well tended.

It is time to return to the real world.

One lump or two?