Summer sentience…

girl in the hat



how many years has it been 

since I fell in love with my own reflection

if love was cold and flat as glass?


I’ve spent my life staring into mirrors

watching the years swim towards me

like dark & slippery shapes

that hover and expand under thin ice 


and even when there is no mirror i feel my eyes on me

when talking on the phone, in the shower, 

driving a car or doing dishes,

i watch myself from the corner, up above and to the right

an out-of-body awareness of what I look like now as I type this

my ghostly gargoyle, my phantom twin, my consciousness

disinterested and vaguely hostile 

an unblinking self-portrait 

framed in gilt.


but what if i skipped the shower, got behind the wheel, and drove north

& norther, to where pine trees fur their feet

and rocks jut like…

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