And it begins with a delicate close,

not dismissing so much as a wink or a blink
to really translate recent foreclosures;
so fatal to the blur, these
unoccasioned trivialities that
screw with the mind and the banality of
Every Day.

So I see you now,
someone else.
A different view in my previously
blurred and telescopic goggles
(others call them eyeballs).

You look... better, for some reason.

And at once, I can sigh with peace;
for now, all the tumult has dissipated
like the coming of seasons, and the onset of
either famine or floods;
they vanish eventually-
such tremor in a twilight disguise;
all gone now.
Vapor sewage
Gone, invisible track

except into my locket chest,
sealing our story with
gauze and hot glue.

You've patched me up--
where did you learn how to sow?
(Although it's arguable you've
undid the seams--unintentional threads
on your brink and mine,
not meant to be interlaced).

A wise man once said to me
indirectly
the truth about life: It Goes On,
he said. And I'll learn to consult
his therapy educated and pristinely;
primly, cleanly, and proper.