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Sleeping In Flames
Even the mirror
Sleeps in flames
When you’re awake.
Tousle your hair
Asymmetrically purporting
On each of your
Frail shoulders.
I wonder
In a height that howls
What do you see in the mirror?
I watched you,
As you marvel at yourself
Spraying perfume
All over your vicinity.
I saw
A figure
Inside the mirror as
You were standing in front of it.
A snake
Eating her own tail.
Or
A picture of
Winter as you
View it
From the porch.
Or
A classic warfare
Of imprudent
Soldiers.
Sometimes I see
The Sun breaking
Into one of your
Eyes.
But your vision
As the mirror
Copies you
Fraternizes you
Into the mirror’s world
I see moments
Of a woman
Setting a man
On fire
And then laughs
Shrills and heaves a little
And then goes back
To the rifles.
It’s like seeing death,
Frigidity
Remorselessness
Heartlessness
Trapped
Inside
A mirror
That sleeps,
Cradled
By the flames.
poem
by
Windsor Guadalupe Jr
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