The Nameless

Today, I traded scars with a friend.
We smiled when we saw they lined up,
despite the time and distance.

He told me of another friend,
who I had been carrying with me,
but didn’t realize he knew.

I first met her in a Princeton machine shop,
greeting her with a somber silence.
She was undeterred.

Once, a classmate interrupted her approach,
saying I needed to put my hair in a bun,
giving me a small insight into her life.

And now, here she was again.
Causing the destruction
of what my friend loved
– unintentionally –
but with a graphic description.

She’s been made mythic.
A sacrifice to The Engine
A curse in the daylight
The reason for change
Regretted yet ignored

But all I know of her are her whispers:
A boy in the closet
A girl on a bridge

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