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I looked her in the eye,
Saw her eyelids collapse
At the pressure of shame,
Remorse and bitterness.

Groaning loud pity signals
To my muffed ears;
Desperately prompting me
To speak soothing words.

Beautiful lies that even
Her subconscious would not believe;
Lies that the pope would not forgive;
That my conscience can’t architect.

The familiarity of the setting,
The realization of repetition 
Helpless as I think how
I can save a lost soul.

So I looked her in the eye,
Up close like butts;
Offered my eyes as a mirror
For her to look at herself.

But she looks at me instead.
Like that we circle back.
Infinite loop of pre-logic,
Prometheus’ punishment!

©herbertuba2017

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