When we quarrel angels die

Good dreams wither for a while

However, from death angels fly

And dreams return, make sleepers smile 

So it’s not much when we’re at odds

Space and time are still the same

There is no quaking of the Gods

No bitterness survives, no blame

Except inside my guts a piece 

Of sinew slackens – I’m ashake

Until madness of minutes cease

Until the time our two mouths make

Concordant kisses bringing peace 

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