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    Fortunate

 

 

One Fine day in that

    not so distant

      future.

 

The very Descriptive

         Words

  and Niceties

Will fall at your feet.

 

The kissing sounds,

smacking lips,

      flapping jaws

reaching for you

In their oh so sweet

and savage way

 

 Do not worship me.

You will implore

in feeble tones

 With all the force

of an eyelash

 Falling

        Unseen

In the myriad wastes

  left in the passing

       of your

          Wake.

 

 
Copyright © 2006- Teresa Rothman