Touch that Thing that Connects

If there is a different life it is ambiguous
marked with crumbs of self-denial -loathing,
broken little bits of the constant changing world
around your cage. You look to see if you can
find reflection. If there is a different reflection
it must be in the mirror of glistening waters
called Misery Bay. The mirror in the medicine

cabinet lies with all that artificial lighting making
illusions in the dark: the lines
                                and streaks on your face. You long for embrace,

the tender kiss. If there is a caring lover
                               he’s not the one in your bed filling it so much

                               so it ushers your scent to a couch which isn’t even yours.


1 Comment

  1. There are so many layers in what you write…one layer struck me as “decisions made and regretted”…oh just a random thought.

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