Mirror, Mirror


His reflection consumed her and

she let it…

Tilting her own views

the better to show him off

–his good side.


> a fleeting beauty, at best <

she draped his X-factor

with incidental wool that

enveloped her frame by the bolt.

She even nailed herself to a Wall that

reflected this perception from a distance,

(a fox from far away)


a degree of separation,

frozen in cornered gloom yet reflecting.

‘Wished open Windows

–that let in weather, as much as light–

would snap blinds and

part curtains

(A little Windex wouldn’t hurt, either)

> a smoke <

He liked shadows better.

Without sheep’s eyes…

where make-up tricks go unnoticed

& fragile planes & edges

stay obscured.

About Charron's Chatter

I bring to you an arrow, whole, Use it, or break it, But if you choose to take it --Know-- With it also, I will go. © Karen Robiscoe @1992

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