But where would unattended feelings go?

Where would the unattended feelings go?
Would they be eased out in the cracking of knuckles or the shift of postures?

Would they be smoked out or consumed in the cups of coffee?

Would they be ignored in the aimless walks in the park or a drive through the city?

Would they be kept aside while talking to a stranger coming close or a closer one going strange?

Would they be watched out in movies or read in books or gazed out at ceilings and walls?

But the question remains, at the end of it all… Where would the unattended feelings go?

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