Tuesday, April 16, 2013


There is a girl
in the glass
that I can see
out of the corner
of my eye.

from her hair
and Atlantic waves
roll in her irises
like a pending storm
on the horizon.

Full lips
and a gentle-tipped
her look.

How I wish
my lines
could mimic
the lines
I see in the glass.

But she is not me.

She is a stranger
I catch a glimpse
of when I don’t try
to see her,
a ghost in the glass
I never catch
looking back
and she is lovely.

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