Dying sunset in the park...
Watching lovers stroll in their cocoon–
hands entwined.
The world; crushed filament in their palms.
Gazing at the old maids puffing smoke,
rattling wheeze rambling in their lungs–
oblivious of contagion’s smothering reach.
Warped trees in some Picasso dream;
all angles, lights, and epiphanies.
Cars thrum like distant capillaries;
rustling, purposeful metronome flow.
Steadily turning towards another day,
spinning record of humanity.
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