There was a time when I sat still.
Soaking in unavoidable truth.
Choosing instead to sit and bathe in a world of thought.
The sun peeked through the window, concerned by the calmness
that struck my lips.
A sudden grip of the edge of the tub over by the sink.
A witness to this random disorder of paused lips.
Each drop of water soaked, dried with a towel.
Coming to the conclusion that I myself was naive.
That the longer I stared into this mirror,
that It wasn't my reflection that I was seeking.
It was hers all along