mirrors – Words and Feathers

stone, blood, glass (20160809)

i want to turn
my hands to stone

let them harden
the way my heart
slowly becomes
a smooth orb
of cold marble

there is a world of mirrors
that needs smashing
and my hands
won’t cease
won’t heal
won’t quit bleeding

once there was a mirror in eden
but the first victim
of any hard-won self-knowledge
perfect or flawed
is always the reflection

smashed, resurrected
a thousand, tiny, jagged,
puzzle-piece doppelgängers
each an accurate representation
of the human eye

they paint hell a dark, sooty place

it is polished, clean and bright
every surface shines
magic mirrors that only reflect you
impossible to look away from

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