By Joshua Robert Long

you are never
going to forget

the way hair
circles the drain

or

the way the altitude
tightens the face

the red in the cliffs
and standing here
feet all planted
looking into the mirror

it’s funny how the razor
rubs against the face

sometimes when I stand
there looking into
my own eyes

I am reminded of avenues
and all the ones
left without a translation.

Tags