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Sometimes I find
the mirror a little too honest
and the road at my feet
a little too precise,
laser-cut at the edges
and weighed by years
of consequence,
my signature at the bottom
and all the fine print
bearing my initials

here on the other side of having
made life’s biggest decisions

how much would I give
to be leaning again over that
once familiar railing
as I have done in years past
and looking over that
empire of ambition
built on top of unspent time,
throbbing with questions
and the air hazy with the smoke
from burned love letters,
uncertainties of the future
strung out like lights
defining where shadows touch
and how ideas separate,
their pages littering the street
and everything, from
Socrates to Rachael Ray,
can be encountered by walking.

“A la fenêtre…” by photographer Vincent VetV


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