the genie won't go back
in the bottle,
how tight the throttled
vapors as they escape
the chambered waiting,
i will grant you all your wishes,
all your papered wishes,
and dissolve to nothing
before your distracted
presence.
we will fall victim to your
self-actualization,
memorialized by a
mile high black obelisk
with the words
“ABSENCE”
carved into its cold surface,
reflecting no light,
invisible in the coming
night.
