vanishing actMature

I don’t think I could pinpoint the vanishing act,
even if pressed, even if kept awake and fed coffee and paranoia
through a tube in my arm, I don’t think I could trace it all
down to one distinguishing moment;
which leads me to believe it had happened slowly,
gradually, piece by piece over years,
but that stings too much, like alcohol on an open wound
and I wonder how I could have missed it -
how I hadn’t smelled the smoke as all this time between us
caught fire and burned to the ground.

The End

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