I'll be due any day ago for an intolerance attack,
But the cure, a day alone, just keeps getting pushed back
By sunny days, and crowds and parks, and back-road closures,
and events and obligations–God, when will those be over?
So this is me acknowledging you really need to talk.
I hope my voice will not betray I'd rather take a walk.
I'm sure I sound insane now, so I'm hanging up the phone,
But a conspiracy of seven billion keeps not leaving me alone.
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