Marked in existence dual
From the closed door into the open.
Peeps the other life
The one that was not chosen.
A carpet bag of moments
Spilling what could have happened
Lying on the path not taken.
My other reality, of identity mistaken.
Otherness of reality lives and longs.
Wallowing in the dust of golden songs.
A fond requiem that we play along.
Consolation for the one not chosen.
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