Tranforming Into Old Yellow Creases Poem by Mimi Mata

Shadows in pursuit
Disassembling memories;
These are fragments
Without the grace of light
Shining upon them...

They become people;
Passing by,

The way smoke evades into the air;
The air I have long forgotten
As I seemingly inhale in faces
That are now just exhaled surfaces.

Politely smiling through
Old yellow edges
Creases that intuitively
Marked faces,

Before time distinguished
Where to leave a space
Between fate's decision

Of life or death...

Death and death's portrayal
In the hearts of those of us yearning
Solemn in our denial
To believe that abandonment
Is also one of life and death's issues...

I met a woman just the other day,

Her red lipstick was applied crookedly
But she had pretty eyes;
Framing betrayal with blue stained glass

'So he left me for someone else'
...She said...
...She sadly said...
Her small hands slightly twitching,

And I looked down without
Anything useful to say
My mind spacing out on the
Newly mopped floor...

Watching my own reflection
Muddle with fate...

I didn't look at her picture
Of her idiot husband...
Who I knew was a liar and a thief
Making vows in a remarkably selfish attempt
To steal a heart then foolishly taking off,

To steal another...
I did not look
Idiots all look the same to me...

They make up the pages of propaganda
More sad realization that statistically
Morals and values were not taken into account
Down the miniscual alleyways
Of todays growing ignorance...

The picture in my presence
Made my stomach churn
After slightly hearing they had two children;
Somewhere in my distance...

'I am sorry'...
Then I got up and left,

Walking past people;
Inhaling in faces
That are now just exhaled surfaces,

Evading into the air...
Transforming into old yellow creases.