70spoems/mirage*
THE MIRAGE
“Man is born alone. Man dies alone.
Everything is between is a delusion.”
My image starved
mind reaches across
seared sands,
which pummel my face
and leave it pocked
as the desert.
The oasis
a delusion,
the water poison,
deadly sure.
My tongue so long
barren and stuck
against itself,
laps up the imaginary
profusion of pleasure,
the sweet, sweet taste
of self-annihilation,
we call it
love.
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