In seventy-nine days future
will I look
back and regret that I used
one hundred words?
No.
Exaggeration:
every one hundred is about you
Truth:
I wish they were allowed
to be.
Music muting the world continues
each with his-or-her-own worries fears joys goals
pouring from every fiber
touch
gaze
smile
like him for instance
small table for two (platonic)
but when he grabs his phone
(reminds me to check mine) I must choose if
his kind eyes glaze or search
that they must
disconnect from hers
she seems unbothered sipping matching coffee.
these will be the last one hundred.
Mary's One Hundred 