The beauty of even a blurry
Finish line is that it underscores
Stray facts that existed before it—
You can’t visit most of the places
You fantasize about visiting,
You can’t live in most of the houses
You daydream about owning one day.
These were always true, but the blurry,
Inky black swiftly approaching you
Illustrates how increasingly true
Truth is becoming—not even one
Such home, and maybe no new places.
This staggers the dreaming mind, but then—
The urge to dream’s so strong—it goes on.
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