“Many words and then disgust.”
I’m guilty of it, too.
But I went to the cascading mass for seven minutes.
Remember when?
I don’t.
Every interaction—tainted.
Smeared with the mark.
The salon of shadows.
They said, “1, 2, 3,
3, 2, 1.”
Twice.
But what exactly,
did you make me realize,
besides,
nuanced comma placement?
Formulating unoriginal,
yet new—(ish),
combinations of words,
should make me happy/
content/
mild-tempered/
tolerable.
It does not.

If I patiently look at you, day after day,