smokey eyes on a tuesday morning
the sound of the butter knife as it
scrapes against burnt toast

the subtle rustles that move
us all forward
through the crosswalk
through the sideways glances
through the fear of not being enough

contemplate humanity, empathy,
the cosmos

consider why any of us
were given this form, and now

practice gratitude
for the things we possess
but have forgotten
we still have

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