Lately I think about what if this was the last moment that I lived? Here now.would I be ok.but you know we have to be —I think how mark checked out and some others….wonder what’s it for….cranberry girl didn’t make it past forty, was it….what’s it for….? so trivial. Life

right now i am tomas in the unbearable lightness of being

i am every statue

 too 

       with 

                   covered 

                         

                                        …..eyes

i am the spectacles watching from Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby  ….the conscience ….the watching eyes

the haunting

      the haunting

            the haunting 

                   in conscious sleep

down a slippery slope

It is on my way home, I pass unexpectedly someone on the street and 

so I drop my eyes and don’t look up. i find I don’t trust who is out there, the nails in the coffin….et tu Brute….but as I feel my eyes streaming down my face I look up at the man as he sees me and ….he is kind looking and looks upon me with thst all saying sympathy;my tears streaming down my face….his kind eyes with silent words that spoke of what he seemed aware this loss, as any of my gender and his all knowing expression, was like a kind father ….even though he was too young to be mine —it should have shocked me to realize I could have warranted such a response from a stranger as he looked at me ….and would  otherwise have touched me; moved me; maybe? if I were not so chagrined (but I was not tonight;tonight I was just too deep in the terror)would have given me hope that there are still those left but….todsy his overt expression only ….touched me like …. a face in a crowded train …. going the other way 

so I kept walking 

i wasn’t numb 

am not numb 

no.just spent 

the circus is about to begin

mark the nearest exit sign