Wells at Midnight

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Short of breath of time, angling space of distance and a sprinkle of salty jealousy, 3 cords; bind broken promises. Aiyeko-ooto in this anthology (50 poems) sample broth, cooked in a hurry and found ingredients of bitter delicacy at the wells at midnight. Just like a baby who cries at night, but needs to learn to take naps in the afternoons, feed heavy and lay down at night, such is the maturity required of sweethearts. We need to learn to hold firm; reins of time, realign distance between us and wrangle jealousy with humor. In 5 movements, Aiyeko-ooto, ends their differences in these words - "If spilling my blood would be watershed of your acceptance, come then and partake of it. For tolerance is written into the constitution of our minds; instead of acceptance, no doubt we have in time created room for intolerance" So if you have not enough hate in you to spill that blood, why don't you redeem it? Forgive each other, claim time lost, end privacy and petty jealous in each other's embrace.