the words float over the crowds unnoticed.
thank you. thank you. thank
you. sitting among the multitudes your face is
part of a larger mosaic. eyes glued to the floor,
a tissue clutched in your hand. each word
uttered by the speaker, you turn the tissue
over. the repetition is lost on me. it can't
be you who she is thanking, if you don't even
hear the words. but how can she be thanking
me, listening so intently to each
syllable, if i am not even there?
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