32

32

That is not the answer to life

That is the number of torches on my pyre

With nothing to show besides Two.

Two with Golden mops, Bright Blue windows, and biting wit. They should be enough, but am I.

32

That doesn’t sound as bad until you realize,

I’m that with an impression and a tan line where a promise used to be,

with Two,

no figure to speak of other than round, no special purpose or gift.

Just Two and 32

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