He

image

Decades of
Content isolation
In his own skin
Sometimes
He forgets what
His eyes look like
In the reflection
Of champagne flute bottoms
He discovers himself
Forgetting the only
Soft soul
Who ever wandered
Into his life
And wandered out
A matted cat
Now these days
In martial bliss
Which is vowed ignorance
He is fulfilled
Completed
Because no one loves him
And nothing
Frightens him

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