witness
Cecelia Blum

the backwards scroll of a camera roll 
a younger me
pretty like a girl 
who just got pretty 

the face in the pillow stares back 
the mirror in the other room, 
i can’t explain

lost lyrics of a tune i sometimes hum    

i can't stand to bear witness
​to the orbit of the door knob

Cecelia has never been able to answer the question "beach or mountains?" and she never will be.