Intercut (Poetry)

I am not the same person this morning
as I was yesterday —
the night has changed me — so call me
by some other — more inventive — name
or it’s likely I won’t answer.

I need time to find myself —
identify and match
mirror-face to memory —
weed out the imposter living in my clothes —
strip off that old disguise.

I imagine I’m fifteen again —
in love for the first time —
the soundtrack travels with me
following me around
from the sixties...

I have my flower-power kaftan
and my beads and I am high
on pure nostalgia —
the film is running backwards
in my head.

Born again — a pale star in the dawn —
my incarnations many —
the script unravels — urges me
reshoot the scenes in real time — life’s
rough edit intercut with flashback dreams.