My face contorts, twisting muscle, pulling skin – tears again
A familiar posture –
then pain,
then muscle memory.

Maybe bending my brows and pursing my cheeks will alter reality

Or perhaps offer salve.

They travel- tear to eyes- face to heart and back again.

Temporary agony.
I know. Brief, I’m certain.
But deep.

As if old tears left scar tissue
And memory irritated reality enough to make these surging thoughts bleed.

It’s temporary, but a moment,
A moment that pierces away my breath, mangles my face.

Now watch the blotches cool.

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