i like to dress for an imaginary girl (we will meet each other soon) by putting on a silk tie with subtle Chinese birds sewn in. she may be picturing me in her mirror as she applies exactly the necessary line of mascara to lengthen her lashes and darken her eyes. whatever begins as a mystery ends as a blind, the nuances so well known that birds chirp violently at their mirror images but the pools as they are revealed in the sunlight of every accidental nod of the eyes remain calm as a mirror in which there is no image ever seen.