many years from now
when shyness is the greatest of virtues
and skepticism the license
to live
your eyes will come up over the ledge
of some old tome so heavy
in your hands
in a bare reading room
in the last living library
against the ticking
muffling the heart of
this city
and ask me
out from under the skein of our technocracy
what is goodwill?
and like a sun just risen
above any horizon
i will decorate the room
your face
will decorate
the room
my face
with the ancient
smile
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