how often we try
to keep up
with phone circuits
and gossip
the dramatic dialogues
of small talk
so indolent and cavalier
we throw our energies
into the atmosphere
as if they
have no impact
and karma is only a fib
continuing in
vain magnificence
the stain of our
vibrations
ripple through
the threads of time
we turn to it
no other way, on
one unexpected day
rehashing the grays
reconciling our mistakes
discords and blabs of discontent
diminish as reality
of death has become our bed
dreaded memories of what
we have said
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