I hope you’re not offended
that I call you so often.
Rarely do they,
but second chances happen.
Heaven shed acid sprinkles,
making splashes
in a crystal lake of broken dreams.
What voices whisper
through a rumor mill,
no one would tell,
echoing a contradiction across
submerged memories.
But it’s in the past;
no longer rational to repudiate.
I have more mysteries
than you contemplated,
but the ones you heard are the least
and of the rest, you’ll never know.

(© 2022 AC)

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