Fault Lines
written by: Lisa Reynolds
Sometimes I look in the mirror
and don’t recognize my face.
The sun has kissed me
too many times
and left dark hickeys.
Jealous crows
have wiped their feet
in the corners of my eyes.
I’ll spare you what moles have done.
If wishes were granted daily,
butterfly wings would lift lids
so I could soar above blue veins.
Admire ridges sprawled across
once smooth landscape, before
landing on sturdy bridge.
Rivers wouldn’t leak black tar.
Fault lines wouldn’t spread.
At least not visibly.
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