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When Someone Is Where They Should Not Be

"We have fifty-seven cameras,"
She tells me as we walk a corridor,
My elbow in her hand.
"We control loss that way,
And we can tell when someone
Is where they should not be."

I wonder,
As time for me to sign
The contract nears,
Who watches those fifty-seven screens,
And who decides when someone
Is out of place.

I note their positions
And the blind spots.
Perfect coverage is hard to find,
And what is most desired
Is the camouflage of plain sight.

She does not know
That I am where I should not be.
I can walk before her cameras
And no one will notice.
When the time comes,
I will step into a blind spot
Near where I am normally seen
And the deed will be done.

Then I will walk away from the building
And not return.

She will be none the wiser.

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