(or: the possibility of reverse prosopagnosia)
(v1.0.1)
there’s a succession of nauseous seconds
when my sharp <hitching> breath forms a punctuation
a respiratory response of an exclamation point
when strangers wear the expressions of dead friends
(v1.0.2)
recently I saw an old friend at a fading bonfire party
but it’s been years since his own apartment embered
his funeral brought the expected familiar faces
but their subtle changes felt like rattled teeth
(v1.0.3)
the letdown restructuring of misrecognizing strangers
<my autumn-hued recollections aren’t their fault>
does not get easier when my “hellos” press my lips
but the triggering faces have been moved to memory banks
(v1.0.4)
new faces hold new possibilities for familiarity
but when the new orbits pass into nebulous connections
my sharp hitching breath will form a punctuation
a respiratory response for a question mark
(v1.0.5)
these faces are looped back to me with each parting
these faces are looped back to me with “how are you”
such as the face of a friend whose smile was her byword
and final goodbye words were “I’ve been really happy lately”
An MFA graduate from Oklahoma State University, Wyeth Leslie (he/him) is a poet and author interested in pop culture, technology, and beauty in the mundane. His writings have been featured in publications such as The Vital Sparks, Lost Futures, The Daily Drunk, and Haywire Magazine. He can be found staring into the abyss on Twitter: @Wyeth_was_here