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Monday, August 22, 2011

Stories from a Night of Dreams: Day 4

The Mirror

I stood looking at myself in the mirror this morning
Tracing my eyes over the skeletal face staring back at me
With such a curious expression on his face
After a while I reached out a hand and pushed it through
I just couldn’t help myself
I passed through it like liquid, exchanging places
With my bemused, lamp-lit, mirror self
I turned away from it and walked into
The world behind the mirror.



L. said...

One, I like the before comment quote. I say that all the time. Just replace keys with anything but keys (or penis. I don't have one of those) and you have my every other sentence.

Two, since I am a nerd and I love literary allusion even if it isn't there for some, I loved the line about the skeletal face staring back at you. All I could think of was the ending of Night, by Elie Wiesel. He ends the book by telling the reader that he looked in a mirror and was horrified by the skeleton that was looking back at him.

Three, oddly enough I've had a dream like this before. Where you just passed through the mirror, onto the other side. When I went through my slightly melancholic state, I used to wish that I could just pass through the mirror, because whatever lay beyond the glass had to be better than where I was.

Four, I really liked this poem.

Five, I apologize for the length of this comment. There seems to be an inverse relationship between poem posts and the length of comments on said poem posts, no? Just me?

I'm stopping myself before I can continue.