Sweep
Hello and handshakes,
now old hat,
that brief hello,
wiggling through teeth.....
a stiff aura
still making breakfast,
news blabbing
from the old TV,
touching is only
on a big screen,
a carbon copy
of middle aged parents,
tequila on Friday
the bright spot,
like sunshine
on a
wrinkled countenance,
gazing right through each other,
the big mirror,
a comfort zone,
waiting
for one or the other
to push out
first.
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