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A first collection of poetry; learning to speak; learning to listen. |
| Reflected Image Peering into the glass, Trying vainly to see the face of The image outlined in silver, Haloed by light. Truth shimmers below me, Trading light with the fog, Coating the surface of spaces Imagined to be. Who is it that I barely see? Goosebumps dance across my skin, Shiver through my arms. Reality cracks shadowed visage. The image not a reflection Reality peers out at me; I am the reflected one Waiting to cross over to life. |