my brain twirls gently between throbbing membranes, interlocking
spider veins, steely tendrils to hold
it in place.
an empty spot
between the faces of others in photographs,
the blank space i wish i could fill,
but cannot erase.
i look at ghost albums displayed
at my windowsill.
still moments of shock, surprise, shared
i will never feel.
locked, Pandora's box, my