after Danusha Laméris
The game dupes us all at first.
We play hard, scars fading
faster than their stories,
time’s twirl only a number.
I played along, assumed a magic
cure would appear
before my tickets ran low.
After decades of dishes and deadlines
I walk by windows where it takes
a moment to realize the stumpy
middle-aged woman wearing my jacket
is me. Each time my reflection looks startled
and I have to remind myself
that's what you look like to other people.
But today Dr. Esposito announces
my vision has improved.
Improved!
I imagine my belly again taut
as a tightrope, arteries grown strong,
face back to one I recognize, and
a pocketful of tickets yet to spend.
Why not? Each year
I’m more hopeful
than I was as a child.
Every decade I leap higher.
Now my heart is an acrobat,
my throat a sword swallower,
I’m growing sideshow proud.
I juggle improbabilities.
They stay aloft, teasingly,
as if they could twirl forever.