You stand alone in a desert
surrounded by mirage—
you cannot remember how you got here.
You travel to a mirage workplace,
converse with mirage workmates,
share mirage drinks on Friday evenings.
You have been servicing a mirage mortgage
on a mirage apartment with your mirage dream girl
for over seven years now.
You are saving for a mirage facelift,
because your mirage jawline is starting to sag.
You could have hallucinated a better jawline.
Your mirage parents have grown old.
They have provided you every mirage available —
They worry for your future.
You think back on your life here in the desert—
it is hard to delineate the start and end of each mirage.
You hear your own voice singing in the distance.
You do not stand alone in a desert
surrounded by mirage—that was a mirage.
There is only the desert.