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Facing Myself
do not ask me who i am
whether i have understood this self so well
or yourself
we always reason out
about the mysteries that surround our beings
i will give no answer
silent as a zipper
i close the door of my mouth
and go inside my esophagus
this slimy self that wants to be out
but cannot
in the mirror however
like the sun with so much light
i face myself and
check
this is beautiful i tell myself
i repeat it many times
i close the window of my soul
not wanting that you hear
any of these dialogues
this narcissism of the self unto itself
in the pond of my eyes
the mirror that shows what reflection is there
of the soul to the body
the body that is warm and touched
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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