who needs tea leaves when you have banner ads from gmail?

tell me about my relationship to the sender,

tell me, please, about whether or not:

this venture will succeed;

this missive is legitimate;

this email will be the one that’s worth

all the checking,

all the wondering,

all the hypothetical

if-she-responds-then-i’ll-say-this

conjecturing, nail-biting, ruminating,

and staring into my morning cereal.

oh, internet gods, incline your ears!

rend the heavens and come into my inbox!

work a miracle therein,

or else do nothing for long enough

that i finally get the picture

and stop obsessing.

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