On the Hunters of Our Happiness

Behind the nods and the smiles,
just underneath the winks and hellos,
swim the hunters of our happiness —
the defects in our soul.

And we sit in our easy chairs, and sip
our glasses of tea with a sweaty lip,
letting the sun hit our face,
while our shame buzzes our ear a bit.

Then our jowls shake out of sync,
dragging our eyelids down and pink,
and for a moment the sun we lose,
leaving only ourselves to abuse.

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