Wednesday, July 14, 2021


I have taken these photos
no one will be looking at  
I have repeated my sights
until emptied of meaning

each one special as a child:
emotions--a trembling skin 
old memories--pause at will, 
a flip-book I cannot control

I have buried the bad sounds,
you can't say them anymore
soon I will be lost, exploring,
then unravel love for myself

I can announce to strangers
that I survived, can say I am
renewed, though I still carry  
this ventriloquist's act of you

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