consistently cut up from below
recognizing old scars as clean
i’ll be new in a year’s time
whatever transformations wait
by the rolling tide’s recede
whatever i’ve been perceiving
is altered in fine form
bring it under the tinted glass
your privacy is unbeknownst to me
marks from lipstick on coffee cups
like late news to the ill
a harsh reminder of hindsight
left to waste in mind
falling unto deaf ears
with hands clasped at their sides
ponder questions of legitimacy
when there’s time left over
forgetting the afternoon’s addendum
curating imagery to be lost
do you fear solemn souls
looking into covered windows
shaking locked doors
hiding worthless materials
to be misplaced during moves
of sunsets and full moons
amongst hallowed love
my face in mirrors
to age in your presence