Mirage


You pretend to love me

so…

you love me 

you love me not,

tear my petals and 

toss them with other 

rose hips

into your old potpourri bowl under

 your diamond chiseled 

vanity mirror

where we admire

you

and I swirl

like lost vespers 

begging to find rest 

in the vapors of what might be

your love 

so

I ask you if you do

and as sure as the sun sets

your mirage 

fades…into 

whispers 

which trail 

like splinters of 

cobwebs  where 

spiders spit 

and hiss

“let’ssss….

………

pretend”

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