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diverging pasts walked
random destinies converged
where all endings go
Thoughtlessness—
         suspends space—
too much space—between fringe and
fringe; moonlight
pools through windowsill—
         a mirror of its shadowed self.
Never liked football
I thought it was too violent
Now I watch it
As much as I can
I wonder if that means
I am violent
What about the sound
From crashing helmets
Knowing someone could
Get hurt
Or the big pile up
And the poor one
At the bottom
Am I violent
Or do sports
Count
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