into the mirror we look
nothing special
just passing through,
no beginning to the end
nor end to the beginning,
it just continues
as if it has purpose
and imagination...
lights reflect lights reflect lights
no end in sight,
on the walls they hang
like so many bugs tying
to find a home In desolation,
orbs shiny reflective notions of
a time before and after when
all we could see was ourselves.
April 12, 2025
No comments:
Post a Comment