the art of losing

the art of losing isn't hard to master;
the knack for parting with
merely a willingness to unloose oneself
from the inexorably detached

like an acquiescence to the faraway-ness of the moon
or something faster;

the redolent sting of absence has a matchless savor
like the afterimage of a dress of fire
in a purifying era gone by;

this is explains why loss is not an acquired taste;
i have always been a loser
in spite of all its costs and wastes;

because if not for the lost
the found would lose its luster.

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