between the spidery cracks of a broken
mirror I search for pieces of you.

in this dark room of echoes
and paper
            clips, I fear I am lost
despite the timid spindles of light that
     ghost their way
through the gaps. they dance in fractal
cobwebs on the wooden boards, distracting me
from the emptiness I hold--like a dime--between
               my thumb and forefinger.