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“At least
At least they’re even,”
She says, looking
At eyes closing for
Lack of will to be open.
“Maybe
Maybe he’s just tired,”
She says, looking
For a reason to
Keep from being worried.
“He’s
He’s not crying,”
She says, looking
To convince her
To ignore intuition,
To bury the canary,
To give up concern
And replace it
With ignorance.

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musings & scribbles