I grind my teeth in my sleep
& halfheartedly say it must be stress
I don’t know that yet… maybe I’m
too tightly “wired” & something
flipped the Switch
I am a blackened bulb st(r)uck on
I am the ghost that reappears unaged
from the day you last saw me alive
My eyes coast over; misty goldgray glass
held up to a warm icy blue
& it’s like I never saw you
How much I like to play “pretend”!
Where
the fuck
have all of my “friends”
[gone] to?
–LM
(Author’s Note: Peering through a hindsight glass can make old faces appear in color like a kaleidoscope.)
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