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Selfie

I am the slab of clay in your hands mould me into a shape that you like I am the blank canvas for your brush paint a picture, perfect and bright I am the naked mannequin let me model all your finery I am the smile painted on your face showing the world all is well I am the contrived version of you the perfect self your camera sees I am the vision of your self that desires insincere praise You call me a selfie but whose self, am I?

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Book: Shattered Sighs