The world is shrinking
into your eyes,
squint a cloud, a summer shower,
you still have thirsty vision.
Everything you have leaves you
unsatisfied,
dissatisfied.
The highway’s scenery
spits its boredom back at you.
Who am I
but a rose struck by lightening?
Quick flash of love,
discarded doll of romance,
what?
So you’ve got cancer
in your soul,
chemotherapy of hugs and kisses
may be momentary cure.
Enough
is what makes
you happy
today.
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