You are bound tightly by mirrors
Gazing at yourself through refracted light
Every flaw magnified infinitely
Every hurt reflected back
slashing
slashing
slashing
you into fragile glass: you
naked Royal Doulton figurine
bare
broken
morose multiplicity in a million pieces of silver.
.
.
.
I want this to have a hopeful spin, but perhaps that will be part two tomorrow? It feels complete in thought, so I’ll stop.
Shawn L. Bird 