My other face dies
And I look on and laugh
As it shrivels.
Then a new one
Appears as I move
Through many mirrors
In search of the real me.
And then he appears.
And I understand
That all of him
Is just a bare reflection
Of what you see.
This entry was posted on September 26, 2012, 7:11 pm and is filed under Around 2004 / 2005, Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through RSS 2.0.
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