Trappings.
Flitting in,
and out,
of malls,
Scouring the aisles,
for more,
always for more,
walking,
undead,
through glittering halls.
Seeking out,
Luscious fabrics,
softest silk,
satin velvet,
crushed denim,
faux-fur,
trinkets and biscuits,
sleek gadgets,
that perfect shoe,
a must-have accessory,
cars, curtains, silver-ware,
gold time-pieces,
that stunning set of pearls,
as empty desire,
gleefully unfurls.
Piling onto,
heaving trolleys,
food,
and,
more food,
and yet more food,
to lighten the spirit,
to elevate the mood,
as countless starve,
a prime pot-roast,
of dead flesh,
we must carve.
Yet,
emptiness...
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