race as in color as in speed
as in constitutional elections
or...The End. no one's really
racing toward it, only searching
for the plateau. a sigh, a shelf,
content to know that everything lines up.
well, almost everything. this place, this
race, this love, this unexpected pleasure,
the unexpected fall. what do we call it?
inevitable, incomprehensible? unbelievable
or too believable? all we know is the race
to the finish and that's where we leave off.
no one ever thought what it's like to arrive
there. no one ever thought...

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