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Sucked out into the empty space
towards the pearly gates of hell
where Hades awaits with
a glass of Penderyn, or Jacques,
maybe Lucid or a Graham Greene.

What if it costs only a memory,
any one of them, none in particular,
what if I could get in so easily.

Dragged across the purging fires
across the river Styx towards
nothing as exciting as love
but more enduring,
everlasting, this funny chord.

What if it costs only a dream,
that one from last night,
where everything was okay again.

My thoughts hear her ask
if I will be alright and one thing
is the only thing I know,
that I will not answer
that question, no, never.

What if it costs only a coin,
the one we threw with linked hands
into the wishing well.

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