Everything.

Your marks were
Invisible
But permanent.
I catch them
In glimpses
Dragged hastily
Across the mirror
Like my old
Bathrobe
Draped carelessly
Over my homework chair.
Sunlight moves
In just the right angle
And I wince
At the memory
Which strikes
That bottom-left
Corner of my mind
Releasing phantom
Memory pain.
There is an alternate
You and me
Moving through the
Kitchen of my consciousness
Still drinking coffee
And laughing
The way it was
Supposed to be –
The way we both wanted it.
If we’d chosen
Differently,
Would the world
Now be at peace,
Or would we be
In pieces?
Wishing things
To be different
Does not make
Them whole,
And makes us
Wholly insane and incapable
Of any true authentic
Exchange.
I would have changed
Everything
To have
Everything
The same.

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