Fair Nymphs Stay Dangling

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Do not leave Facebook
One by one. Fair nymphs,
Stay dangling your legs on the edge
Of waters calm; my song is not yet done.
In the doing of its melody

I facilitate memory with
Albums, tagged posts — lost debris
In a randomly collected corner of an uncornerable
Vast omnivorous digital ocean floor. The cackle of
Unnumbered like you makes you less the mythical; yet

To let you leave and go leaves a
Moment’s mark on the tender flesh in
Memory — and in the mind’s disallowing, reticent
Dismissive stare — and if we are to meet again for real
I would not remember whether you had ever been there.

The tears, to a window — which through in-built cleaners,
When you feel you’ve gathered enough, can be
Cleaned, so that you’d retain
Only what your memory would deem feasible — the tears,
To that window, you have poured for months

And I have watched, as to the depthless ocean
Them flow, reflect a rainbow’s resonance
In the night’s deep glow. Legs dangle, where your toes
Little fish voyeur, gape to stare at
And the social etiquette in sex the fishes know.

Fair nymphs, you are dead now:
Your avatar greets me in a faceless,
Hollow thrill-less shrill. Seduceless.
Should graves be allocated to fairness withered?
Whither is such strength to preserve the loose? And flimsy?



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