My teeth have gotten crooked.
My
eyes sport puffy bags.
My
lashes lost their lushness
And
my neck, once taut, now sags.
My
wrinkles now have cousins
Come
to line my washed-out skin,
But
it isn’t any mirror that
Reveals
the shape I’m in.
For
that white-haired older lady,
Peering
back across the room,
Is
the way the whole world sees me
When
I’m on the screen on Zoom.
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