A necktie dangles like punctuation,
Catches itself inside closing elevator doors,
Swell against wire rope and transmit echoes of shrills
Throughout the ride. Rose petals touched by epoxy resin
Where a face used to be.
A face that had laughter,
Had winks and blinks
And jokes too.
Corporate P.R. establishes
“Dressed to kill” as business casual.
Takes it to new heights.
Obligated conversation embraces trade secrets into primary colors. Red whispers splice the speak stream, divvy out small talk, hoping to offset million dollar ideas with loose-change-dreams.
A ping alerts those along for the ride,
A face is there to greet them at the end.
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