Our lives
Become empty seats
In a waiting room
Littered with mirrors
Staring at selves
Missing semblance
Of another sad soul
Disappeared

Like faded breath
Losing shape
By exhausted lungs
Always screaming
For one more chance
Chasing daylight
Contained in forms
Rarely known

Which failure molds
Over bone
Hollowed through hell
Under hardship
Where marrow drips
Bitter traumas
While poisoning blood
Never fresh

Stealing each face
Melted down
When meaning seeks
Better contours
Tracing that frame
Neatly hidden
Below what faith
Takes its place

Returned as sin
Grinning back
But invisible now
Still pretending
How happiness shields
Even skeletons
From watching casts
Slowly change

Or vanishing here
Leaving space
And revealing proof
Choosing errors
Since the vacant bench
Seems delighted
To remind us
Flesh did exist.

• J. Pigno