You look older now.
Your face peels back
to childhood versions.
Lizard skin, you wear it
like it is your own, like
this is your life now. 
Your life, which consists
of ripples on stillwater
by the grace of butterfly 
effects, is only as large
as your own skull is.
Every moment is a loss
you must now accept 
immediately. As well,
you have lost many
people. They have
washed like shells
into the swallow of sea.
You will never touch
their lives again. You
touch your own face. 
You are limestone. 
You have been etched
with many elegies down 
the curve of your back,
like many lover’s graffiti.
The verses become wings,
the sun looks inviting.
The light draws you in,
makes you feel real,
because in the darkness
when you cannot see
your body, you are
nothing. Your body
is your only home.
You haven’t stared 
deeply into the mirror
for too long. You have
lost time. You have lost
yourself. You are not
what you once were.
You could cry for her
and your tears would be
just echoes that dissolve
into heavy, calm silence.
One day you will be
There is nothing 
you can do.