Tuesday, September 2, 2008

Empty Mirrors

I’ve damned myself
with dreams of you;
tortured by our memories,
haunted by our words
of care, concern and passion.

I am plain in my meaning,
simple by original design,
a mosaic pieced back together
after the bumps and breaks of time,
set upon a mantel for display alone.

What good is a mirror
to a man who has left it behind
or to a woman who sees through inner eyes?
What point is reflection
without a subject to define?

We are each other’s mirrors
as seen in duality
but when we have parted ways,
lost to each other via responsibility,
we are but empty mirrors.

No comments:

Post a Comment