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My hands skim the sensor for the automatic sink to rinse my fingers.
But nothing happens.
"Am I real?"
Am I just an imaginary figure
Droning about freeways and bathrooms
Looking to keep life for myself?
Will it turn on?
And if so can it wash away the impatience
that holds on to me
Like the child in the convenience store
gripping the trigger to the impossible green gun.
While the price tag drooping from his wrist
pleads to him that there may just be a price for everything after all.

Waiting in comfort,
comfort in waiting.