The combination of a large fat-encrusted luncheon
Plated on the cool green linoleum
And a warm Summer afternoon
Is too complete of a creation
To survive this lack of napping
As my arms are heavy-laden
And yearning for a short sleep.
Sometimes the things we could have, should have done
Haunt us deeper than we recognize.
Must I eat again?
I am drifting, drifting, waiting for release.
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