Untitled
Millions
of tiny lives
Tiny
windows
Tiny
lives
The
currents
The
bursting stream
So minute
He
used to be
A
glimmer in the stream
Of
tiny lives
He
looked at them
And
was separated
She looked into the horizon
From the obelisk she could see
Millions of tiny lives
She felt a longing
To join them
She saw herself
Forced
Like the triangle
In a circle peg
He
opened up a beer
Drank
to those who read
And
those who fucked
Up
there
In
their tiny bedrooms
With
their tiny pillows
Insignificant
She put on a dress
And knew
What it represented
Fashion
It’s time
It’s fleeting
Like most things
She turned away from
It
He
wondered if anyone
Felt
the way he did
That
they could meet
Maybe
talk
Maybe
then he would see
How
irrational it was
Tiny lives blurred about the day
Just
living
Nothing else
No
dreaming
Routine
Nothing
else
They
were really
Going
to do this
He
grabbed a belt
She tied the rope
Stood
up
And
dropped down
The
little tiny lives
Becoming
what they always were
Little
tiny puppets
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