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The Lease

We are not owners.
Despite the forms you just filled out.
Despite the full support of the finest judges.
The money in your pockets.
The land outside your door.
The car in your driveway.
The heart in your chest.
You do not own,
When it comes to rest.

What makes you think
You are a sovereign unit?
You have forgotten
That your logical unity is temporary.
If you own your own body,
Then what of the change,
That leaves it ragged and weary
And fading with age?
If you own your own mind,
Then what happens when you sleep?
When you lose it from sight
As you move into the final deep.

Surely it is less certain.
Passing through and renting rooms.
A shadow on a patch of grass,
Dappled by light through leaves.

Surely you cannot be positive
Despite the legal funds.
That everything belongs to you,
And bends to your will.

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