So much to like, here, in your ‘acid-eaten masterpiece’ and your subdued ache at life’s disappointments. Namely, the gift granted in exchange: “the watchfulness of spirits that can sense/a stillness...”
This stanza and line break, alone, are worth the price of admission:
“...thirsty for her Gin
and tonic.”
Bravo, Inna. 👏🏼
RE: A Swansong - The Impact Challenge Contest