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Trudging  on auto-pilot
Through the shopping mall
Furtive glances at the travel pros wares

Blue seas of lapis and emerald-green
Smite me into reveries of flight and self-preservation
Flee and live or stay and wither to inertia

Glossy, glazed paper offers white ships
Cutting silently through the depths
Close-eyed participation synchronous

Sucked-flat lungs finalize realization
Of action once consigned to the realm of “I Can’t”,
Yet buried deep into my heart like Tosca’s dagger

Up and disappear, my desire, so long unsung and blind
No travel guide, no GPS, no itinerary required
Just GO and ACT….

Easy for you to say
I squelch the inner/auto/futile arguing
The pros are my red corpuscles and the cons third-party unthinking

Babes no longer, they fly to their prizes in the world
Scuttle my chattels, pack one bag and flee
Without a whisper, nary an exhale of my air to alert the border guard

Consider no reasoning, no second thoughts
Pure mindfulness
Ticket in hand, away, away, to the sea
On vacation until death us do part.

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