there are some moments
when my vision gets blurred
irksome little daisies in my eyes
ivies gripping weakly at my ankles
a few days out of the week
my legs get a little shaky
frail arms tensed with effort
holding on to that cigarette full force
a few months out of the year
i can barely hold myself up
iron and steel welded to my bones
weighing me downstream
it’s been decades
since i could see in front of my face
years since i’ve felt something real
the incandescence from that candle long gone
only groping and stumbling around in the dark
searching for
wells full of fresh water
forests bathing in leaves
or maybe, another pair of friendly hands
looking for something familiar
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