sitting on the edge with
bated breath,
beckoning for the ultimatum.
(of dreams hitherto conjured)
so that there can be
rest -
from this marathon of covetousness, of silent envy;
which has made a farce
out of bona-fide friendships
or unmitigated happiness for someone else other than the
carnal self.
with frosted breath,
i wring my hands
and wait.
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