Doctors have little,
by way of healing,
left to offer me.
Medications release
dopamine, forming
a joyless smile,
so I drink warm coffee.
Terrified she’ll pack
and leave to return never.
Take the onus
one last moment
far be it from me
to hold a candle
under a chandelier
to elucidate a mirror,
examining the creases
in the anguish of my reflection.
The pain in my eyes
merely explains a feeling.
(© 2022 AC)
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