My voice deepens as I grow older
reminding me of the throaty sounds she
made when we still laughed together
When I use my most authentic voice
and she pours out my mouth, I
press my lips together tightly to stop the flow
I look at myself in the mirror and
see the slow morph of time on my face
bringing it into the same likeness
How the lines and contours of me are changing
reconstructed into a softer, yet harsher, version
of myself, reflecting back to me – her