Contributor: T. David Lauber

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I drank her pretty
she drank me witty
for one of us
that was never going to be enough
her broken down eyes blink no vacancy signs
red flashing dissuasions
but this is what she knows
a weary rider always slows
never sure what waits down a darkening road


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T. David Lauber lives and writes in Buffalo, NY. He is currently writing poetry and working on a collection of short stories. He may or may not take himself too seriously.