Apparition Poem #2054


Twenty years ago I stood in
the West Pattee stacks, as she

wove a weird pattern around
the center aisle tables to see

me (for once, finally) face to
face, elongated eyes stretched

torturously across her severely
boned, mask-hard visageas

I say to the kid, it matters to me;
if I stumble, it's because her eyes

are equally torturousJustine
has her own tsunami I'm dumb before