Here’s a thing that isn’t true but it feels like it is
I’ve been alone since I was born
I googled: Elderly lesbians to cheer myself up
But the results were all pornography
Duos on the television
Sparring with recycled words
Children building wooden houses
Before they’ve ever met a bird
Well I'm still not sure exactly what it means
To be living in exile from old dreams
Once, I had an idea
And I could not be repaired
If I could find a word to describe myself entire
Then I would know what to wear
Standing at the arch of the gate
Spitting fruit into the trash
Double falls and following trains
And bent pennies in the grass
Well I'm still not sure exactly what it means
To be living in exile from old dreams
I can’t see
Past the rims
Of my glasses
In the night sands
I can’t see
Past the rims
Of my glasses
