Upon seeing myself in the mirror, totally nude except for an orange stocking cap and frayed green scarf
Lanky, stanky, hard living – there I am – a reflection
in glass, asked none nowhere for nothing never.
Forget now that rage: caged, myopic and mythical
existence pondered with disgust, trust who – a reflection
in glass – a me – pretender rendered butt naked in two dimensions.
So I ask I, “Dost mine eyes deceive me?”
But as soon as my mouth stutters, shuddering you interrupted,
understanding nothing, as was your wont, speaking mysterious history that calls us
to a remembered future together and we inhale, cry, reply, “Do not depend on this.”
Astonished, our blood-soaked hearts loosen up our heads and demand expanded love for everything everywhere every where every thing.
“Dear head/heart/mind/body/soul stuff,” we intone to ourselves among the bright, white, tiled walls,
“Reflections though we may be – may we see ourselves in the flesh – may we rest ourselves in an act of breath?”
Everything everywhere every where every thing.
A plane flies through morning’s azure pool,
high above the frosted window of my bathroom.
Machinery buzzes and birds sing sweet simple songs.