who did we think we were talking to
when as children we released balloons
on Sunday
And who did we actually reach.
a partially inflated balloon
having just peaked mid-thermosphere
rejoins the hopefuls.
Hopefuls who command respect and admiration
with the subversive, ever just departing
Helium-induced super-ego.
Hopefuls with all hopes in the clouds,
disposing of uplifting rubber spit sacks
in other people's lawns
as a best case scenario.
The reality, however. More absurd.
They found You didn't they. My
best friend.
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