We are only ourselves in our reactions,
Those small, unscheduled intermissions
In this practiced, improvised
performance,
and I, by reading and reading and
reading,
In my quotidian quest to learn
everything
Am finding that all this reading and
knowing
Have half-begun to compromise
My potential for surprise.
The mirror's averted from my eyes.
I see the painted back instead.
How long 'til I'm a stranger in my
head,
In my own house?
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