Nostalgia is a cruel mistress,
Crucifying the Present nailed to
Rearveiw reflection of the behind,
Seen in a shattered mirror.
Forgetting how it was Shattered,
Losing sight of ahead, and texting,
while driving. Failing to absorb,
and thus feel, the immense beauty.
This cathedral of dust must be,
Our meditation and our teacher,
Seeing how this spinsterhood works,
Domestic Goddess forms.
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