I know now.
After the 17th time I've been through here.
that I was always lost
and always beautiful.
My true reflection was always hidden from me
It was something I was not meant to see,
others made sure of that.
All of those pictures my father kept secret
while the ones sent in cards, in letters
my eyes were red
or someone's head
in front of me
or my head half-cropped
my body chopped
I was taking the picture
but I was not in it.
not in the grand scheme of it
and that was the grand scheme of it.
but early this morning
I passed through here once more
and I saw myself at 17.
not a frown,
the only one in the frame,
and I realized
I am exactly the same.
After all of that.
All of that-
Oh, give me a word-
I can feel
the chilly real
of forever self
pressed against my cheek.
so now I glide along the wall
pressed close now-
only seeing what I was meant to see.
I don't want to see what lies ahead
and what lies ahead in front of me
and what lies?
Tickle your toes. . .
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