spread out in all their glory
Fronds swaying and rustling
beckoning and enticing
Eyes wanting to reach them,
craned the neck up
and up it went, as if placed
at the end of a puppeteer's thread
Fingers refused to be defeated by fronds
A tap here, a tap there
The mighty palms fell
Incarcerated forever
in a palm sized machine
Nothing pulled anymore
the neck relaxed
the straining threads cut
as the eyes now victorious
looked down on the mighty palms
held in their palm...
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