To face the persistent paths,
The route echoes,
Reclaiming your steps, the confidence,
In the mist of a myriad fallings
Is to regain. Then seek. Then fortify.
The angership
Of the vowelless pages
Ignoring gold-rushes and rush-hours
above the same old deserts
Nonnegotiable demarcations
Of feeling…

Just picture:
My own quarantine isle!
Wrapped in night sounds
And promise lists
Expecting isolation
To lock the unlockable keys.

If I was this hideous instant of loss
I’d wear a necessary mask
Of Paris-made gloss………..

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