Cervezas at Dawn
The refrigerator hums out a melody of regret.
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You awaken, pathos-pilgrim, your refrigerator devoid of destiny, thirst quenched temporarily by thoughts.
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Knocking at fate's ability to balance, with dark champagne of the dusk—those cervezas will mock you, ode-diver.
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A morning manuscript inscribed on daylight's reflection: proverbial amber translation lost in irony.
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