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.