I believe my younger selves still live inside me.
Yes, I know
I am that sagging skin
I am these aching hips,
I am that ravaged face
in the mirror as I stare,
but there are others behind these eyes :
the second-grader, late for school
the sullen teen with greasy hair,
a nervous newlywed,
the proud young dad
on the day you were born,
my collection of selves peers
into that cruel mirror,
wondering
"what the hell are we doing
in this old body?"
I tell you, these 'selves' are still right here!
inside me
waiting to be stirred to wakefulness
by one sweet moment
recollected:
by a glance at that photograph
of us,
a certain scent,
- that song!
-G.L.
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