these corner-eye
&
then wide-eye
mirror glimpses
theres no
dorian gray
in there
my grandfathers gut & hairline
sneaked in
while
i
was
endurance testing the sofa
keep on keeping on
why-not regardless
&
whatever deluded
mirror now
is
my
squinted mists of grace
from michellehenry.fr
since turning 40 in a hot sticky summer haze of fever
surgical masks
and cancelled trips
there is question mark hanging
over ever dry dust and fresh scrubbed
and palm-open or fist-closed face
where
an
age
could be printed in a bold times font
i am unable to fill this gap with a number
but prefer to place phrases there like
CHILD
HALF WIT
or ENLIGHTENED
like
TRYING
SURVIVING
or SELF-CENTRED
like
HIDING
OVERHEATED
or WILLINGLY DELUDED
i label in lower case
always ready to erase
in the accepting wind-tides of change and progress
and
the
word
above my head is not for me to write there
but i do lean back
or quickly look up
in hopes of catching a glimpse
of
my
current perceived status
