Dear, one day
I might die,
and most likely
(we could suppose)
before you do.
Such a thing
need not matter –
need not sound
the faintest bell
inside your mind.
Already you stop
the taking in
of my presence
in the world.
I am erased.
The real erasure,
when it happens,
will be anti-climax.
You are wise,
are you not?
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