In eulogy with the burst

A short poem.

by Marcus Jonathan Chapman

And I see
not much more than
wet and woven
through bags
pregnant with tea
and bloated
from water and
the bubbles cluster
to the side of Styrofoam
shaped cylindrical
and the bubbles
in eulogy with the burst
and I taste their bitter
tears and set down my cup
licking my lips and thinking
not much more than this
and I know
it is everything

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