It’s
a
fine art,
the
art
of following.
Choosing
that
precise moment
to
stop
is too, a work of art.
Like
a
thief in the night.
It
is
frankly, what separates
the
Doomed
from the Damned.
Like
a
self-congratulatory hand-job.
Sad
in
a way,
contagious
in
another.
An eye
for
an eye
with
no discernible
end.
The song “Fond Farewell” by Elliott Smith suits this piece quite well.
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