Lynn

2020-10-29 11:27 pm

these are the golden years, the golden day, she says
like the sunrise or the sunset? i say
both. or neither. she says 

do you miss it? she says
your youth, i mean.
i know. i miss it. i am still young. it has been torn from my chest and weighs on my hips and i miss it. i say

how was your birthday? she says
better than before, i say. 
before what?
the moment it became my birthday.
were you gifted anything? she says
on which birthday? i say
all of them. or none. she says

do you think we could preserve this moment, cast it in gold or bronze or iron? she says
no. 
who said that?

i pick up the mirror and drag it home. 

ten, nineteen, two thousand and one.