~ i l l u s i o n ~
an afternoon torpor sleeps in my tired lap / the debility of my existence hides in the spines of my books / it's been a while i've opened my windows / to my name and every mention of me / the city's mad at me for shutting it out / and people look at me like i traipsed out of a dream / like i am here but i am not here / so could you please go and whisper this to them / 'where's the lie in this?' / it's no use looking at me at all / for you might see me in flesh and bones / but i am already gone, already gone ~
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Poetry#314 in poetry [Aug 19, 2021] "A poet dares be just so clear and no clearer... He unzips the veil from beauty, but does not remove it." ~ E. B. White.