Friday, March 7, 2025

67

There’s a beacon of familiarity 
As he walks across the room 
Like a light shown straight upon me 
A lens set high in zoom 

He approaches me with swiftness 
The onlookers a wake 
As he glides in through the masses 
His eyes still on my face 

I didn’t think he’d still remember 
That dark and restless night 
When I put him back together 
Held his factures while he cried 

I’m just another martyr 
A woman in disguise 
I didn’t stand to think 
That I could be recognized 

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