The MirrorDonald Illich
Calling yourself to the mirror, your opposite refuses to climb out of the glass, live with you on an earth that isn't his own creation. You feel that he owes you for making his image, but then you think about realities, how little you know about the mysteries, streets you cross in the dark with signs removed by the gods. You might be the weaker world, the one reflecting his universe. You might be tethered to his skin, like a cart dragged around by a horse that wants to leave it behind on the road, its passengers not understanding where their lives have ended up. Thinking about this only upsets you, makes you fall out of love with life. Instead, you will need to see if you can break into his realm, throwing yourself against his pane. If it breaks you will discover there are some places you cannot go, Do Not Enter stamped across their light, a laser nailing the reflection to a surface you can't penetrate. You will say you meant to be defeated, for this existence to be the only one you breathed with, for your turn to wave goodbye, to never be seen by anyone again.
Donald Illich Read Bio Author Discusses Poems
|©copyright 2004-2023, No Tell Motel. All poems ©copyright the authors.|