MIRRORS

It’s all mirrors –
whether I crawl
scraping bones exposed
clawing submerged shards
 
its reflection
still projects
me
 
whether my crown
kisses the clouds of intimacy
sees fiercely real love
staring back at me
 
its intention
still connects
me
 
and when sorrow’s
black wings spread
soaring away
 
transmuted from
the choice to feel into decay
 
to the recognition
that there is another way
 
all of my fibres pray
 
each inch of life
inhabiting this vessel
ignites
 
lights up the bodies
suspended in my sky
 
remembers there is
no such thing as
the things that are outside.
 
It’s all mirrors
in this place
 
just mirrors.
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