Not one different,
not one distinct,
from the one last week,
a month or year,
after or prior
try as we might
to guise each day
in the cloak of a date
Among the many ways
we connive into believing
that death sees us
unique or separate
from any plant or insect
even as the epitaphs
go unread by the fate
illiterate
If luck had it
we may someday
outlive the humdrum
of mortality
lived yet denied
till last breath.
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