was perfect but now extinct
though sometimes my mother’s
words were just beautiful flowing
letters strung together to look
like words on their last track
and then the shapes would shrink
and blur and slowly fade away
which was what she wanted
my father to do only ASAP
meanwhile his supple cursive
was hardly ever on display
so in the end all he could write
even if not without a fight
was his own name but perfectly
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