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The Mirror
The mirror
Is inky black
Clouds of dust
Float around
Like fumes
From cigarets
She reaches
To touch it
The image
Dissipates
Disappears
And all is clear
For a second
And for
Just a moment
She can see
That she is..
That she might be...
beautiful.
But, then
She blinks
And the clouds
are back
Grey and puffy
And..
hopeless.
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Favorite Quote:
“Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.”<br /> <br /> ― Mary Oliver