Clock shows 5

The first petals of spring
open their wings;
The first touch of what might have been
comes and goes–
I dare not breathe.

I dare not speak of anything
that was supposed to be mine,

Clock shows 5.30

With my teeth,
I’am removing from my skin
addictions that were never mine to begin.

I dare not say anything about–
let alone dream.

You look at me.
And in me see what I might become,

I am not!

Clock shows 6

Everything turns to dust
in my hands;
I die, at least three times a day.

Widow! – You get to live.
Your dress,
in immortality I’ll dye.


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