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On Seeing My Silhouette In A Mirror
Three steps ahead a mirror stands before.
My eyes reveal a silhouetted man.
Behind, a yellowed lamplight from a stand
Illuminates my shape and little more.
But here I’m caught beneath the open door.
Where, up to now, uncertain footfalls land,
My senses fail, my choice at urgent hand,
A silence gnawing at my ripe, red core.
A sterile switch beguiles my hidden eyes
To save me with the dark, or strike my mask.
My soul stares back, uncertain of the cask:
A wine of bitter truth and sweetened lies.
To walk in light and darkness is my task
But when I ask, I also close my eyes.