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instead,
the denouement springs upon me
an unwelcome lassitude,
a misshapen discontent smeared upon the gloaming,
fatigued questions
curling upon the trellis of night,
the dots under them huddling in lines,
sign here, they scream,
you have to agree,
this is how it ends.

Quadrille: a 44 word poem
Linked to the Dverse Poets (Prompt: spring)