Some Things Are Irreversible
Faces seared
onto a Polaroid,
looking out
from the white sill
always will.
The brocade
of scar on skin,
an embossing
of pain.
The crease
in the corner
of a page,
formed in
an instant:
Recall a moment
by these marks.
Return to them,
these asterisks
signifying the pretense
of permanence.
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