Sometimes, it’s easy
to live for strangers:
their eyes belong elsewhere;
their dreams won’t disturb.
Faces we can’t see
absolve us,
leaving our nakedness open,
our ghosts intact.
What we don’t know protects,
granting redemption,
before truth destroys us
in its eager rush.
If you were a stranger
and we could connect,
we might make a language
of all the words lost.
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