mount the video

at the outset there was only one footstep,
a hair’s breadth, between my self and yours
but then there were ten, then twenty, then more
and your face disappeared behind doors
i could not enter

here, now, i play a good game of make-believe
i wear your clothing as if it were your skin
i plumb its depths for you and your scent
without perhaps knowing exactly where you went
when you went there without me

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