An envelope bears the expected package
Before it opens the red cross explains the content
In the awkward, crowded space between knowing
For sure and just guessing, and hoping
There has been so many moments akin
Where putting it off is an exercise
One where we never get fit, our muscles remember
Anyway, time and again where it is obvious
We’ve all gone through the trepidation
Understanding full well it cannot be elation
Never, to recollection, has this sensation felt right
I am clutching abstractly at the letter
The inevitable image of the objective invoice
Something utterly static and beyond symbolic rapprochement
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