Pour down teasing now and then
Farthest of my nearest dears
Do befall me once again.
There’s no flesh behind the silvering –
Mirrored, flat out spread is one
On cold surface, shivering
Yet, with fever, carnally wan.
Heard light steps, then heard it faintly
Whisper, even through that door:
I shall hang on somewhat saintly
But not enter anymore.
I shall join you up behind it
None the worse for wear, quoth I.
Mirrorwise we’ll end up blinded
And, opaquely, unify.
December 15, 2022
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