Skin Made of Plaster
Location
The saddest smile I must have never seen.
A note from a friend is wretched with seams.
I lean toward my pen,
Then sigh and fall back,
Landing on soft, solid ground that’s been trekked.
A mist of illusion that’s clouded my mind,
Calloused my kind,
Cast out our time.
She’ll be mine.
She’ll be different, she’ll be what you discovered.
I fell from the sky, then came up and hovered.
And saw you, your ways, and I took my own notes.
The cold is coming, let’s throw away our coats.