nirvanaflats.com

Ill fitted glass
in frames of disrepair
looking inward
I find the warp and wobble
of old panes soothing

a moonish hazy view
of CDs no longer played
yellow duck boots in the corner
dusty immovable
next to the green couch
my side wearing thinner

I turn in circles
no matter when I stop
all I’ve done
is faced
another direction

but I was already
where I wanted to be

I can’t touch you anymore
can’t see my smile
in the reflection
of your glasses

sometimes
when you laughed

I’d forget to breathe