a mirror's
duty

right
and
priviledge

is eyes
meeting thine
own eyes

perplection at
the amazement to the
scorn: the containment

of perspective:

this perspective that is
trying to matter by
making matters by

the willingness to
inhale
or
the easeness of bail

backs turned
and eyes
removed

"who am i and
what am i
doing?"

all observers long
to be observed

our light shining upon
witnesses turning them
into prophets

"i am...
....
.............
?
...."

and the light
exclaims

"you
are.
you are!
you
are."

any reflective thinking
during moments where
you draw the human
eyes
cause
missed notes, missed
shots, missed
takes and
mistakes

the backdrop of
fingersnaps is
the open embrace
of God Almighty

the dropping of
a handfull of
coins in my
open felt accordion
case is
my creed in
synthesia

the eery silence after
having poured your
essence: after having
refracted your reflection
into the eyes of concave
mirrors

is either the sound God
heard concluding the
sixth day or
the sound we will hear
when there will be
days no
longer

in every moment
a world's perspective,
a human's glance,
there is life--
sustaining
and there is death--
conclusion---

but there is
ressurrection

there is
cycle

a
mirror's duty
is to set before
us thine own
eyes

i touch my
own cheek
and
feel

then

i recall the
feeling of when
another touched my
cheek and

i hear an entire
symphony of
a past seven
teen years

the oscillation of life like
the oscillation of every
pitch of every note of
every frequency and

frequently

i will return to mirrors
and i will reflect on the
performance i have just
witnessed and

it is a mirror's stunning
stamina to end the mus
ic long enough for my
mind to piece it all to
gether

and they say that it is
fallacy that
the human mind narrit
izes: that it makes shit
up for the sake of their
own sanity

my story
is
my story

my music is the music
i will recite for the God
of harmony, rhyme
scheme, understanding

She will sit before me
and ask me
gently
to tell Her about
myself:
tell her about
the life I lived

and when I finish
my eyes will be moist
from crying
my belly will
ache
from laughing
my shoulders will be
sore
from shrugging
(i'll start and
end with a shrug:
She'll
understand)

then i'll hear

the eery silence after
having poured your
essence: after having
refracted your reflection
into the eyes of concave
mirrors

and it is either

either the sound God
heard concluding the
sixth day or
the sound we will hear
when there will be
days no
longer