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It was naught but the toss of a quarter Heads or tails . . . And something else - I saw it through his eyes Making me think my own quarter Might have two heads - Dooming me eternally Even before it was flying Gracefully, alternating metallic reflections, I knew the outcome - It was apparent in his wry smile, His upraised chin and confident brow. - I close the mirror Withdrawing in a downcast gaze - Knowing the only thing I can do right Is anticipate my Own demise.