"Cocktails at the Roosevelt"
Empty after all
Chasing victory
Beyond spring
Into early fall
Gentle souls
Lost midst recurring story
(sans glory)
Where lines blur
With indecent word
In polished stalls
Where 'suits' press thighs
Of children chasing highs.
Loose tongues roll
Sprinkling alabaster advice
From 'Atelier de Souls'
'Straight up, or over ice?'
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