made up the perfect excuse to feel fine,
but i don't think i've recovered yet.
no one seems to know
it is my favourite secret

still, i have lingered on
((in a chamber of the sea))
thinking you will come,
do the silliest thing
& that will be it

still, i have seen myself
through the looking glass
so today i know the difference
between yesterday & tomorrow.

arched my back against the chair,
a guilty face, spinning tales alone.
metal catching skin against an
anxious touch, you see i think
i have found resolve mixed up
in things i have heard & told.

place a hat upon the chair,
she doesn't want to be
invisible this week.