Half-Empty Glass

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On this night, dinner at our customary table, set towards the back of the room.
Often, year after year, have we come hither;
The walls, the lights, the food and the wine do not change, but we do.
I see your beauty through the half-empty glass; I remain enamoured with you.
It's everlasting appeal will remain the rest of our days.
We need not know much else, for we produce this poem together.
Our time here is short, I despair at the thought, but delight in its truth.

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