Cathy Colman


Borrowed Dress

He left the room, assured of his immortality--
or was it just his cologne?
I once wanted his money--not really his money,
but the freshly minted coins of reason.
His hands smelling like prime numbers.
I once wanted his swagger, his fame
but without the dental work.
I'm reminded that my destiny was
to stand reflected in the infinity-inducing

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