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It was naught but the toss of a quarter
Heads or tails . . .
And something else -
I saw it through his eyes
Making me think my own quarter
Might have two heads -
Dooming me eternally
Even before it was flying
Gracefully, alternating metallic reflections,
I knew the outcome -
It was apparent in his wry smile,
His upraised chin and confident brow.
-
I close the mirror
Withdrawing in a downcast gaze -
Knowing the only thing I can do right
Is anticipate my
Own demise.